


Waiting to Fall

by Joni_Beloni



Series: Moving Towards Forever [2]
Category: Emergency!
Genre: Drama, Drugged Sex, M/M, Minor Violence, Non Consensual, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-08
Updated: 2011-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joni_Beloni/pseuds/Joni_Beloni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paramedic Johnny Gage believed he had come to terms with his life, but when, by chance, he sees an old friend in a new light, his tight control begins to unravel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.  The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> * * *

Kel Brackett looked up at the knock on his office door.  The door opened, and Dr. Edward Pendleton grinned in at him, letting his tall, lean body rest against the doorframe.         

“Well, come on in,” said Kel, smiling back at him.           

As Edward sauntered in, pushed the door closed behind him, and plunked down in the chair across from him, Kel, eyed him appreciatively, enjoying  the casual look of Levis and well-worn pale yellow plaid shirt, untucked, with long sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  Dark gold hair lightly covered his forearms, matching his well-styled hair which fell just to the buttoned-down collar of the shirt.  His pale blue eyes glittered with humor as he watched Kel checking him out.         

Kel threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair.  “You look disgustingly pleased with yourself,” he said.         

Edward’s eyes narrowed.  “Hmph.  I thought you were about to say I looked disgustingly sexy.  Am I losing my appeal?”         

“Never.  You look fantastic in those jeans.  But I’m sure you already know that.”  He stood and moved around the desk to perch on it, his knee brushing Edward’s.  “So tell me already.  Did you get it?”         

Edward grinned, managing to appear smug, arrogant and gorgeous all at once.  _How did he do that?_          

“I got the call this morning, about an hour ago, and decided to come down and tell you in person.  I’m the newest Rampart resident in the burn unit.”         

“Congratulations, baby.  You’ll do great.  And we’ll be glad to have the extra help in ER.  A couple shifts a week, right?”         

Edward gave a mock pout.  “Yeah.  Couldn’t get out of that.  At least I’ll get to spend a little time with the hot head of ER.  That should make it somewhat bearable.”  He gave Kel’s knee a light squeeze.  “And it will give me even more time to work on convincing you to join me next year in private practice.”         

“No, no, no.  Don’t even bother.  I’ve told you a dozen times already that I have absolutely no interest in leaving Rampart or emergency medicine.”         

Edward groaned good-naturedly.  “Come on, Kel.  It would be so perfect.  You and me with a little clinic in Malibu, doing boob jobs and face lifts and lipo on rich old ladies and movie star wannabes.  We could be raking in the dough in no time at all.”  He moved his hand to the inside of Kel’s thigh and began stroking seductively.  “And we could be as out as we wanted.  Old ladies and movie stars just love cute homos like us.”         

Laughing while fending off his lover’s hand, Kel shook his head.  “None of that, now.  Let’s keep it professional at work, okay?”         

“Oh, sure, absolutely.”  Edward grabbed for Kel’s belt buckle with his free hand.  “Luckily, I don’t start working here until Monday.  So drop your pants and make me feel welcome.”  Before Kel could voice another protest, he had the belt and pants undone, and was sliding his hand inside to caress Kel’s stiffening cock.         

“Not a good idea, Edward.  Ahhh.  Okay.  I guess we can make an exception,” said Kel rather breathlessly.  He lifted his hips a little to allow his pants and boxers to slide to the floor, then hissed at the feel of Edward’s hands and tongue going to work on him with their usual skill.  “Did you lock the door?”          

“Mm hmm,” came the reply, which vibrated up Kel’s hard length.  He threaded his fingers through Edward’s hair, groaning as his lover swallowed him whole, sucking and licking, driving him crazy with his clever mouth.           

“God, Edward, that feels fantastic.”           

He didn’t hear the knock on the door at first.  His own harsh breathing and throaty moans blocked out everything but the rhythmic slurping of Edward’s mouth.  By the time his pleasure-addled brain registered what he was hearing, the unlocked door swung open, revealing a wide-eyed, momentarily frozen John Gage.             

Kel’s gaze locked with that of the young paramedic, and time seemed to stop for just a moment.  Then Kel was grabbing at Edward’s hair, trying to squirm away and cover himself all at once.  The last he saw of Johnny was his flaming red face disappearing around the edge of the rapidly closing door.         

Not having missed a beat, Edward continue to work Kel’s cock, sending him expertly toward the edge as he ignored what must have been Kel’s painful grasp of his hair.  In fact, that seemed to only spur him on, and his strong, capable fingers dug into Kel’s hips, pulling him closer and guiding his movements, encouraging him to fuck his mouth, to plunge in again and again until he gave a strangled, almost angry yell and spilled himself inside Edward’s greedily sucking mouth.         

Kel’s cry changed almost immediately into a groan of regret.  He hopped off the desk to clean himself up and adjust his clothes.  “Damn it.”  The look of pure mischief on Edward’s face told him all he needed to know.  “You said you locked the door.”  He waited, hands on hips.         

Edward gave him a lazy smile and stood, moving his body against Kel’s and leaning in for a slow, sensuous kiss which was cut short when Kel jerked his head away and stepped back behind the desk.  Edward’s smile never left his face.  “Oops?” he said, laughing softly.         

“Edward—“ began Kel, his deep voice laced with anger.         

“Sorry, baby.  I swear I didn’t know that would happen.  Anyway, now people won’t have to wonder how I got the job.”         

“You know very well I had nothing to do with the Board’s decision.”         

Edward lounged back into the chair, his long legs stretched in front of him, hands resting loosely on the armrests.  “You know I’m only teasing.  Don’t blow a gasket on me…again.  So who got the shock of their life back there?  Some pretty young nurse?”         

Kel scowled, feeling mortified all over again.  “No.  One of my paramedics.”         

“Ooh, a fireman, huh?  Should have asked him to join us.  I love firemen.”         

Shaking his head, already thinking ahead to the uncomfortable discussion he would have to have with John Gage in the very near future, Kel sighed.  “Sorry Edward, I’m afraid you’re not his type.  John Gage is about as straight as they come.”         

“Oh yeah?  You’ve been wrong before, Kel.  You were wrong about me, if you recall.”         

Allowing an unwilling smile to soften his features, Kel chuckled.  “Oh, yes, I remember.  You shocked the shit out of me in San Diego.  It’s just a good thing for you that _you_ weren’t wrong about _my_ orientation.”         

“Not a chance.  That is one thing I’m never wrong about.  My instincts are impeccable.”         

“Hm.  Well, I really have to get back to work now.  In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to catch up on here.”         

Edward stood up.  “Yeah, yeah.  I can take a hint.  Just remember, you owe me one.”         

“We’ll talk about it went I get home.  And we’ll also have a nice long discussion about work versus home and boundaries.”         

“Ooh daddy, don’t be mad at me.  On second thought, will there be spanking involved?”  He raised his eyebrows, looking hopeful.         

“Get out of my office,” Kel growled.  When Edward left, closing the door behind him, Kel smiled for a few seconds, then frowned, remembering with chagrin the look of shock and panic on Johnny’s face.  _Damn._   Knowing Johnny, Kel was pretty sure he wouldn’t cause him any trouble over this.  He only hoped it wouldn’t ruin their working relationship.  No doubt about it.  This was going to be awkward. 

@ @ @ @ @ @ @          

Johnny closed the door to Dr. Brackett’s office as quickly as he could, forcing himself not to slam it, and forcing himself to walk back down the hall at a normal speed.  He knew a deep blush still stained his face, and felt his palms and back sweating.  _Okay, Gage.  Nothing to get worked up about.  Just your boss.  In his office.  With his pants around his ankles.  And his cock shoved in some guy’s mouth.  Okay, then.  Gayness confirmed._          

He spotted Roy at the base station with Dixie.  “Got the supplies?”  He had tried to sound casual, but was afraid it had come out rushed and agitated.         

Roy gave him a curious look.  “Working on it.  Did you find Brackett?”         

“What?  Uh, no, he wasn’t around.”  He saw Dixie’s eyebrows lift.  “Well, I mean, he was around, but he looked kind of busy.  We better get moving.  Don’t want to miss lunch, right?”  Without waiting for an answer from his partner, he breezed past the desk and made a beeline for the squad. 

Sitting in the passenger seat waiting for his partner, he shut his eyes, replaying the scene he had just seen.  Dr. Brackett with his head thrown back, the growly moan coming from his mouth, and then his glazed eyes opening and meeting Johnny’s gaze.  He hadn’t seen who the other guy was, just the back of his head and his yellow shirt.  As Johnny pictured the scene, the man’s golden brown hair darkened, and his yellow plaid shirt turned to light blue, and then it was Johnny seated there in front of Kel Brackett, holding his cock in his mouth, licking and sucking, tasting Kel, and he was the cause of that incredible moan coming--         

He opened his eyes, expelling a shaky breath, and glancing down at his half-hard cock.  _At ease, there.  Come on Gage, get a grip._   He couldn’t quite believe it.  A gay Dr. Brackett was something that would take getting used to.  A small smile played around his mouth. _Maybe…just maybe…._          

Seeing Roy coming out the ER doors, he hopped out of the squad, moving to open the side compartment to help his partner put away the supplies. 

Roy’s voice drifted to him as he approached.  “Good to meet you, Doc.  I guess we’ll be seeing you around the ER then.  Let me introduce my partner here.”         

Johnny turned, then froze.  Yellow plaid shirt.  Golden brown hair.  Oh crap.  This was the guy.  _Don’t freak out.  He never saw you._  He waited expectantly, trying to appear nonchalant.           

“Dr. Pendleton,” said Roy, “this here is my partner, John Gage.  Johnny, Dr. Pendleton just joined the burn unit here.  He’s also going to be working in the ER.”         

Johnny gave a little wave.  “Nice to meet you, Doc.”  He pulled out the drug box, set it on the ground, and dropped to his haunches as he began restocking it with the items Roy was handing him.           

“You too, uh, Johnny.  See you around.”         

Something in his voice made Johnny glance up.  Dr. Pendleton gave Roy’s shoulder a slap and turned to go.  As he passed Johnny on his way to the parking lot, he gave him a lazy smile and a wink.  Johnny shot a look at Roy, but he didn’t seem to have noticed.  They finished stowing the supplies, working in companionable silence.           

Back inside the squad, Johnny called in their available status, and they headed back towards the station.  Johnny stared out the window, brooding.  His brief elation faded as it sank in that Dr. Brackett was already involved with someone.  Of course it had to be a doctor.  A tall, gorgeous, doctor.  He sighed.  No way would Brackett look twice at someone like John Gage anyway, dumbass paramedic, butt of all jokes, hapless Casanova.  _That was some seriously stupid shit you were thinking earlier.  It ain’t gonna happen, Gage.  Not in a million years._   He sighed again.         

“I heard that,” said Roy.  “What’s her name?”         

“Huh?”         

“Her name.  Whoever it is that’s got you so moody today.  Some new nurse?”         

Johnny sat up a little straighter and glanced at his partner.  “Sorry.  No, there’s nobody.  Guess I’m just a little tired today.”         

Roy gave him a look without moving his head, then slid his gaze back to the road.  “Neighbors again?”         

“Yeah.  Sure.”  He hated the sullen sound of his own voice.         

“Uh huh.”         

Johnny grimaced.  Roy didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his crappy attitude.  He pasted on a smile and summoned up a lighthearted tone.  “One good thing about having crazy neighbors, though.  Roy, I have come to a momentous decision.”         

This elicited a brief chuckle.  “What’s that, Junior?”         

“Well, I’ll tell ya.  They pissed me off so bad last night, I decided I’m definitely gonna look for a place to buy.  Not right away, of course.  I need to get together a down payment, check out all the neighborhoods.  Might take a year or so to get the money together, but it feels good to have a goal like that ya know?”         

“Hey, that’s great.”         

“Yeah.”  He grinned, actually growing enthusiastic.  This was something he _had_ been thinking about.  Just speaking about it out loud made it sound like the right thing to do.  “But you know, after my last brief brush with home ownership, I’m gonna take my time, find something just…perfect. ”         

“Sounds good.”  Having arrived at the station, Roy backed the squad into the bay and sat for a minute, turning to look at Johnny.  “This mean you’re thinking of finally settling down?”         

Johnny looked down at his hands.  “Oh, I don’t know.  Maybe.”  He looked at Roy and grinned.  “Stranger things have happened, right?”         

“Guess so.  Come on.  Let’s see what’s cooking for lunch.”  Roy got out of the squad, and then turned back.  “You coming?”         

“Right behind you.”  He watched Roy disappear through the door to the day room, then he took a deep breath and expelled it noisily, feeling like he wanted to punch something.  He ran his fingers through his hair.  _John Gage.  Phony.  Fake.  Liar.  What a guy._  

Briefly, he allowed his thoughts to travel back eight years, to Jason and that brief, happy, confusing time in his life.  After Jason’s death, it seemed he had lost himself, forgotten who he was.  Not professionally.  The firefighter/paramedic part of the John Gage equation came so naturally, and felt so right.  Nothing else about his life felt right anymore, however.  Not even close.  Some days he felt weary to his marrow of all the lying and hiding, so disgusted that he couldn’t show himself even to those that were closest to him.  Not that he was all that close to a lot of people. 

What hurt the most was having to look his best friend and partner in the face every day and feel the fear of inadvertently revealing something so essential about himself.  He didn’t have the first clue as to how to fix that, not without destroying what little life he had.He opened his door and prepared to follow Roy, first making sure that his happy, phony, smiling face was set firmly in place.          

 

Following an apartment fire just after midnight, Johnny and Roy made another run to Rampart, accompanying an elderly woman with first and second degree burns.  Dr. Brackett’s shift had been over for hours, and Johnny felt relief that he would not have to face him just yet.  That awkward meeting would come soon enough, most likely on Johnny’s next shift. 

As he waited for Roy to finish handing off the patient in treatment room one, he wondered idly what had gone through Brackett’s mind at having someone walk in on him at such a vulnerable moment.  Like everyone else in his life, Dr. Brackett thought Johnny was the absolute epitome of the single straight guy.  Now that he thought about it, Brackett could very well be in a panic about having been found out.  For all he knew, Johnny had reacted with revulsion to what he had witnessed.  _Oh geez.  He’s probably freaking out right about now._          

They were not toned out again that night, but Johnny did not get much sleep.  After tossing and turning for perhaps an hour, he finally dozed off, only to find himself in the midst of an incredibly erotic dream starring himself and Kel Brackett.  He woke abruptly, bathed in sweat and sporting an impressive erection.  He made it into the latrine without waking anyone up, got the situation under control, and spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, still unable to get Kel Brackett out of his thoughts.  His horny, horny thoughts. 

By the time he left the station the next morning, he had reluctantly made up his mind.  That night, he would go out looking for something he hadn’t sought out in several years.  He could only hope that giving in to his need would bring his suddenly raging libido under control and squelch his pointless fantasies about Kel Brackett. 

  



	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't until the following Monday, which also happened to be Edward's first day working in the ER, that Kel found himself face to face with John Gage again.  In the intervening days, he'd found himself watching his staff, as well as the paramedics who came through the ER, looking for a hint of anything different in how he was treated, or subtle nuances in conversations which would suggest that he had become the topic of gossip.  He was relieved, but not surprised, to conclude that nothing had been said to anyone about his and Edward's impulsive behavior in his office.  He'd been right about Johnny's discretion.  He had certainly never struck Kel as a judgmental sort of person, but he did tend to obsess at times about the oddest things.  The last thing Kel or anyone else needed was a nervous, anxious John Gage.  Kel knew that the sooner he took Johnny aside and cleared the air, the better.

He got his chance just before lunch when Johnny came in with two victims from a motor vehicle accident.  Neither had serious injuries, although Johnny wore the remains of a couple of breakfast sandwiches and most of a six-pack of beer which had been forcefully spewed across his chest and legs by the teenage boy who had caused the accident.  That was the first thing Kel noticed when he entered treatment room two.  The second thing he noticed was the paramedic's pronounced limp as he moved around the room hanging the IV bag and gathering vitals. 

Forgetting for the moment the awkwardness that lay between them, Kel grabbed his arm before he could flee the room.  "Johnny," he said, "what did you do to your leg?"

Johnny grimaced, looking everywhere but at Kel.  "Just a little flare-up in some spilled fuel.  Nothing serious, Doc.  Got a little scorched maybe."  His gaze darted to the hand which still held him, then away again.  "I should go grab some scrubs and get changed out of this mess."  He looked down at the vomit which decorated the front of his uniform.

Kel dropped his hand.  "You need to get checked out before you leave, Johnny.  Hang on a second."  He stuck his head outside the door and flagged down a nurse.  "Carol, is Dr. Pendleton available?"

"I think so," she said.

"Great.  Can you get Johnny here some scrubs, find an open room and have Dr. Pendleton take a look at his leg?" 

"Yes, Doctor."

As Johnny edged past him to follow Carol down the hall, Kel raised a hand to stop him, thought better about touching him again, and let the hand fall to his side.  When the paramedic had limped his way perhaps ten yards down the hall, Kel called after him, his voice a touch sharper than he had intended.  "Johnny!"  Johnny turned around, finally making eye contact with him.  "Could, uh, could you come and find me when you're done?"

"Sure, Doc.  If we don't get toned out first."

Kel gave a short nod and went back inside the room to check on the patient.  After a frustrating twenty minutes of dealing with an unrepentant drunk teenager with a head injury, he handed the chart to the nurse.  "Let me know when his blood test comes back," he said, and left the room, heading for his office.  Approaching treatment room one, he heard a raised voice.  Moving closer, he recognized the unmistakable sounds of an irate John Gage.  Curious, he pushed the door open.  Johnny was seated sideways on the table, trying to stand.  Edward had a hand on his shoulder, apparently attempting to push him back down.

"Doctor," Johnny was saying, scowling furiously, "I've had enough of this shit.  Get your damn hand off of me right now."

Kel stepped into the room, ready to intervene.  "Johnny?  Is there a problem?"  He gave Edward a questioning look, but he just shrugged.  As soon as he saw Kel, he had removed his hand from Johnny.

"Nope, no problem, Doc," said the paramedic, visibly struggling to bring his anger under control.  "My leg feels fine.  I need to find my partner and get back to the station.  Dr. Pendleton here seems to think I have all day to sit around while he-he-wants to just poke around everywhere."

Slow anger began to build inside him at Johnny's behavior.  "Just stay right there," he ordered, before turning to the other doctor.  "Edward?  How does his leg look?"  He saw Johnny's agitated movements and turned to glare at him.  "I want you to sit on that table and don't move, understand?"  The younger man's only response was a sullen glower.  Kel turned back to Edward.  "Well?"

"Small first degree burn.  He's fine.  I was just going to apply some cream and a dressing and send him on his way."  He shrugged and smiled, giving a look that said he didn't know what the paramedic's problem was.

"All right.  I'll finish up here."

"Kel-"

"Edward, go grab some coffee or something.  I think Johnny and I need to have a little talk."  He met Johnny's furious gaze with one of his own.  When he heard the door close behind Edward, he let out an angry gust of breath.  "Care to explain what that was all about?" he asked.

Johnny's jaw clenched as he seemed to be trying to calm himself down.  If he hadn't been so pissed off himself, Kel might have been amused by the sight of the young paramedic sitting on the exam table in only his boxers, scrubbing a hand through his hair and emitting small indignant huffs.  Kel was suddenly reminded of the first time they had met.  How long had it been?  Eight years? 

Finally, staring at the far wall, Johnny muttered, "It wasn't anything."

"Oh really?"  Kel pulled the rolling stool next to the exam table and sat down.  The burn cream and dressing were already laid out.  "Lie down." 

There was a small pause as Johnny seemed to consider whether or not to comply, then he finally sighed and lay back on the table.  It was the work of only a few minutes to apply the cream and get the dressing in place.  By the time he was finished, Kel had calmed down a little, and trusted himself to speak without saying something he might later regret.

"Johnny," he began, then paused, not sure how to continue.  Finally he gave a sigh of his own.  "I guess I'm a little disappointed in you."

The younger man's head jerked up off the table in surprise, and he stared at Kel, his dark brows pulled down.  He sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the table again.  "What are you talking about, Doc?"

Kel reached behind him for the scrubs that Carol had brought in earlier, and tossed them to Johnny.  "I guess I thought you were a little more open-minded than this."  Johnny continued to look confused.  He wasn't going to make this conversation any easier.  "Look, I'm sorry you walked in on...what you did last week.  It was completely unprofessional and I suppose just stupid to put myself in that position at work.  But regardless of how you feel about...well, about who I choose to be with, I expect you to at least be civil to both myself and Dr. Pendleton.  If you don't think you can manage that, I think you should tell me right now-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa."  Johnny shot up off the table, the forgotten scrubs clutched in one hand.  "You just wait.  Just stop right there, Doc.  I don't give a damn about any of that.  It-it's none of my business and-and you...well if you're happy then good for you.  I'm not gonna lie to you, I was surprised, and a guy doesn't just walk in on something like that and not feel, uh, kinda embarrassed.   But I respect you, Doc, and I consider you a friend.  I have no problem whatsoever working with you."  He grinned suddenly.  "I may not be able to look you in the eye for another week or so, but really, Doc, we're good.  We're fine." 

Kel eyed him skeptically for a moment, but the man did seem sincere, and genuinely upset that Kel had misjudged him.  "Okay.  Fair enough.  But Johnny, what was all that with Dr. Pendleton just now?"

The grin disappeared and a wall seemed to slam down over Johnny's expression.  "Ah, well, you know me, Doc.  World's worst patient."  The grin made a half-hearted reappearance.  Johnny's gaze skittered around the room then finally came back to meet Kel's.  "We done here?"

"I guess so.  Go ahead and get dressed."  He watched Johnny slide on the scrubs, pull on his socks and jam his feet into his work boots.  As the younger man was crouched down tying his shoes, Kel stared down at his dark hair and the back of his neck.  "Johnny.  I don't know what happened in here earlier.  But I want you to give Dr. Pendleton a chance.  Remember, it's his first day here.  He's a good guy.  A good doctor.  Maybe next time don't be so hard on him."

Johnny stood, and he was avoiding Kel's eyes again.  "Sure, Doc.  I'll do that."  He grabbed the bag containing his soiled uniform.  "Guess I better go find my partner and get out of here."  A ghost of a grin appeared and faded, and then he was out the door and Kel was left in the room shaking his head in confusion. 

He went looking for Edward, and found him at the nurse's station, talking to Dixie.  He turned and smiled at Kel.  "You get him all patched up?" he asked.

Kel just nodded.

"Wow," said Edward, "that guy Gage is really wound up tight."  He gave a small laugh and glanced at Dixie, shaking his head.  She gave him a level look, but did not reply.

"Let's go to my office for a minute," Kel said.  They walked together and entered in silence, then Kel sat behind his desk.  Edward made a move as if to close the door.  "Leave the door open, Edward," he said, a little exasperated with the younger man.  "Sit, please.  All right, let's hear your side."

"My side?  Why?  What did Gage tell you?" 

Kel just waited.

"I don't know what to tell you.  He just seemed real jumpy.  Like he didn't want me to touch him."

Kel frowned, thinking, then glanced up to see Edward staring at him, as if trying to decide if he should say anything more.  "Yes?  What is it Edward."

"Well, nothing really.  Just...I think you're wrong about Gage."

"Really.  How so?"

"That guy is not straight.  No way."

"Edward.  I've known John Gage for quite a few years.  You'll just have to take my word on this.  He is the walking, talking definition of straight American male."

"Maybe a little too typical?  I'm telling you, the guy is as repressed as they come.  And I'm going to prove it.

"Leave it alone, babe.  I think you're mistaken, but it's none of our business either way.  Let's not go playing games with people's lives, okay?"

Edward gave an exaggerated pout.  "You're not as fun as when we first met."

Laughing a little, Kel stood up.  "Wait until we get home.  Maybe I can change your mind about that.  Now come on, let's get back to work." 

 

@@@@@@@

 

"You okay?" asked Roy, as they got into the squad and headed back to the station.

"Hm?  Oh, yeah, the leg's fine.  Just like I've been telling everyone."

"I figured as much, since they let you leave.  What I meant, was, you seem a little pissed off about something."

Johnny breathed in and out once, trying to relax.  "Nah.  I'm okay.  It's just...that new doctor, Pendleton.  He was kinda, I don't know, pushy, I guess."

"Give him a chance, Junior.  He just started."

"Yeah, that was pretty much what Brackett said."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roy turn to look at him.  Good thing they were stopped at a traffic light.  "And just how did Brackett get involved.  Johnny?"

He felt himself growing sullen again and tried to shake it off.  "I guess he heard me sort of, you know, yelling at Pendleton."

"You were yelling at Pendleton." 

Johnny tried to hide his smile.  That dry, deadpan way Roy had of stating a fact rarely failed to crack him up.  "I know, I know.  He was just doing his job, and I was being unreasonable.  He just rubbed me the wrong way."

"I don't know.  He seemed like a pretty nice guy to me."

"Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Sure.  What do you want to talk about?"

Johnny thought for a minute, drawing a blank, trying to dredge up the expected response.  _Oh yeah._   "We could talk about that cute new nurse in pediatrics."

"We could."  Which meant he would rather not. 

"Huh," was all Johnny said in reply, then sank into silence, watching the scenery pass by. 

He was still angry at Pendleton, but was managing to mask it a little better now.  As he recalled the scene in the treatment room, he had to make a conscious effort to keep the scowl off of his face.  The guy had waltzed in there, all fake smiles, and told Carol he could handle things on his own.  Then as soon as Johnny was alone with him, he ordered him to strip down to his boxers, even though he had just finished changing into the clean scrubs.  Once Johnny was lying on the exam table, the man's hands seemed to be everywhere, in all the wrong places.  And he was just grinning at Johnny's increasingly annoyed protests, like it was the funniest thing in the world.  When he had finally had enough, and exploded at him, of course that was when Brackett showed up.  Perfect.  Typical Gage luck. 

He couldn't exactly spell out to Brackett what had been going on.  He knew Pendleton would flat out deny everything.  And Brackett really seemed to like the guy.  He wasn't going to be the one to tell him that his boyfriend was a complete asshole.  Johnny suspected he was getting the special attention from Pendleton because there was really nothing left to hide from him.  Either that, or he was handing out a little payback because Johnny had interrupted them in Brackett's office.  Whatever the case, Johnny was going to do his best to avoid Dr. Edward Pendleton in the future. 

 

Unfortunately for Johnny, Dr. Pendleton seemed to have exactly the opposite idea.  All of the sudden, it seemed that whenever Johnny and Roy had a run to Rampart, Pendleton was right there, meeting the ambulance, standing at the nurse's station, in the lounge getting a cup of coffee.  He always made it a point to stand a little too close to Johnny, or touch him unnecessarily, letting a hand linger on his shoulder, or his bicep, or the small of his back, or when no one else could see, on his hip, or his thigh, or his ass.  More than once, Roy or Dixie had shot Johnny an odd look when he suddenly jumped as if he had been goosed.  In fact, he _had_ been goosed, but no one else ever saw. 

After a couple of weeks, he had to admit to himself that Pendleton was good at this game.  Very good.  Despite Johnny's best efforts, he couldn't avoid him, and he figured he would either have to push him in front of a speeding ambulance, or sit him down and have a talk with him.  Although the first of the two options had a certain appeal, he decided to try option number two first.

On the next run to Rampart that evening, he ran into Pendleton in the doctor's lounge when he went in to grab some coffee.  For once, there was nobody else around.  Even though his first instinct was to snarl something at the man, Johnny instead went and stood right next to him, which he had to do if he wanted the coffee.  When Pendleton greeted him and actually rested his hand on Johnny's neck and moved his hips too close, Johnny let him, and said as calmly as he was able, "You doing anything for breakfast tomorrow morning?"  He was rewarded by a flash of surprise on the doctor's face, followed by a brief blank pause as if he wasn't sure how to respond when called out like this.  But he recovered quickly. 

"You want to have breakfast with me, Johnny?" he asked, putting just the right note of perplexity in his voice.

Johnny nearly rolled his eyes.  He gave the other man the name of a restaurant and told him he would meet him there around 8:30.  Then he got out of there in a hurry, hoping he wouldn't see him again until his shift ended.

When Johnny entered the diner the next morning, Edward was already there, waiting for him in a booth with just a cup of coffee in front of him.  Johnny sat down across from him and ordered coffee himself.  He was hungry, but didn't think he could stomach eating in front of this guy.  After taking a few sips of coffee and eyeing Pendleton and his smarmy smile, Johnny opened his mouth to speak, but the doctor cut him off.

"Johnny," he said, "I'm really flattered that you're interested in me.  I think you are aware, though, that I'm in a committed relationship with Dr. Brackett."

Johnny just stared at him, his mouth slightly open.  Pendleton's use of "Dr. Brackett" instead of "Kel" had not been lost on him.  _Condescending prick...._   He waited to hear what else the man had to say.

"Don't get me wrong.  You're a good looking guy.  Prime Grade A beef." 

Johnny's eyes narrowed.  "Just wait a minute, Pendleton-"

The doctor was not to be deterred, however.  "I mean, yeah, we could go for a quickie right now, and I'm sure it would be fantastic, but I don't want to lead you on.  Let's be serious for a minute, John.  I'm a doctor, and you're-you're-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it.  I'm just a lowlife civil servant.  Look man, let's just walk it back a little here.   First of all, I'm not gay.  Second, I didn't ask you here to make a pass at you.  I'm only here to let you know that I don't appreciate all this touchy-feely crap you've been pulling on me.  Be gay.  I don't care.  Just please stop trying to play grab-ass with me when I'm trying to do my job.  Give a guy a break.  Okay?  Deal?"  He waited, maintaining eye contact, trying to see what was going on in Pendleton's head beyond his stupid smile.

Finally, Pendleton reached over and put his hand on Johnny's wrist, grasping it lightly.  He forced himself not to pull his arm away, just waited for whatever the guy was going to say.

"Johnny," said Pendleton, leaning in, "I understand, really I do.  You don't want any of the boys at the firehouse to know about you.  I'm not going to say anything.  And maybe I can help.  I know some great guys.  I could introduce you."

Johnny pulled his hand away.  "Doc, I'm just not getting through to you, am I?"

Pendleton seemed not to have heard him.  "How do you do it?  You can't exactly have a relationship, can you?  Too dangerous, right?  You date women.  Lots of women if I can believe all the gossip at Rampart.  But it can't be all that satisfying for you.  I bet you cruise the clubs, right?  Pick up random guys for a sweaty little fuck or blow job.  I'm right, aren't I?  Do you even know how expressive your face is?  You're not a very good liar."

Johnny just stared at him, his mind racing.  The guy was too damned observant.  He did a quick internal debate.  Yeah, the guy was a jerk, but he had figured out Johnny's secret, and he was apparently feeling chatty.  The temptation was almost overwhelming, but only for a moment, to just let it all go, tell him everything.  It would be such a relief, such a release.  He actually opened his mouth to agree with him, then shut it again, resolute and a little afraid that he had come so close, and with Pendleton, of all people.  Instead, he just shook his head, and stood to go.  "You don't know what you're talking about," he said softly, but he knew the other man didn't believe it for a minute, having already dissected his life with such painful precision. 

"Wait, Johnny," said Pendleton.  "Sit, please.  I have something I want to say, and it won't take long."

Johnny  considered, then nodded once and sat, silent and waiting.

"I guess I know why you're pissed off at me.  I have been having a little too much fun at your expense."

"That's your idea of fun, huh?  Messing with people like that?"

Pendleton gave a short laugh.  "You sound like Kel.  He's always trying to rein me in.  Such a sweet man.  But with a firm hand, you know?"

Johnny didn't know, didn't want to dwell on whatever Pendleton was implying, but he just waited some more, striving to keep his expression neutral.

"Anyway, I'm going to back off, Johnny, stop ‘messing' with you, as you put it.  I can see you're determined to keep up your little façade, and I'll respect that.  Don't understand it, but your secret is safe with me and Kel.  If you ever want someone to talk to-"

"Hang on.  What do you mean, you and Kel?  Dr. Brackett has never mentioned anything about...uh...assuming anything..."  Geez, he was babbling.  He didn't even know how to phrase this. 

The smarmy laughed erupted again, grating on Johnny's nerves.  "Kel and I talk about you sometimes.  Just last week-"

"Well, don't!"  Johnny stood again.  "You don't need to be talking about me.  Just leave it alone.  My life is not a subject for gossip or speculation."

"I think some of those nurses at Rampart think otherwise, sweetie."

Johnny just glared at him, trying to convey his utter annoyance with the man, then turned and left the diner without another word.  He drove home, still steaming, and shaking his head at how close he had come to admitting everything to Pendleton.  As he entered his apartment and started scrambling some eggs for breakfast, he acknowledged to himself what an appealing idea it was to be able to open up to someone, to just tell them everything about himself and his life, and talk about the things he regretted and the things he hoped for in the future, and why he could never have them. 

Not for the first time, he considered coming clean with Roy.  Every time he had considered it in the past, he had come to the conclusion that it just wasn't fair to burden him with all that crap.  And he wasn't completely certain how the man would react to the news that his partner was gay.  Johnny had never heard him utter even a hint of a homophobic remark, and he strongly suspected that Roy would be more pissed off at him for lying to him for all these years, than for being gay.  Maybe.  Maybe he could tell him.  He filed it away for future consideration, in the likely event that the pressures of his double life became too much at some point.

Until this morning, he had been toying with the idea of talking to Brackett.  He had hesitated, unsure whether he could adequately disguise his attraction to the man.  Points in favor of Brackett:  he was gay, and he was discreet.  Hearing from Pendleton that he, Johnny, had been a topic of discussion between the two lovers...well, he wasn't sure exactly what he thought about that.  Annoyed.  Disappointed.  Embarrassed to recall that when he had the perfect opportunity to mention his orientation to Brackett, he had cemented his lie even further, making himself out to be some saintly, tolerant straight guy, refusing to pass judgment on his misguided boss.  _I am such an idiot.  Face it Gage, you don't even deserve to be happy._

As he went through his normal routine, eating breakfast, cleaning his apartment, doing laundry, he started thinking about what he had been talking to Roy about a couple of weeks earlier, of finding a house with some land, maybe getting some horses.  As much as he loved his job, it might not be a bad idea to have a backup.  His walls of deception were definitely starting to crack a little, and if worse came to worst and he lost his job, maybe owning a little spread would be a way out.  He could raise horses, board them, breed them.  If he did manage to hold on to his job, then it would be a great way to unwind.  He would have to work a lot of overtime to afford something like that, though.  He would wait a couple of days, maybe a week or two, before he put his name on the list. 

That decided, he started thinking ahead to that evening.  He had stayed away from RZ's and clubs like it, for a couple of years, but lately it had become almost a compulsion.  Some tightly wound resolve had snapped the morning he walked in on Brackett and Pendleton.  He would have to get things back under control soon, but not yet.  Not tonight. 


	3. Chapter 3

Edward was bored.  He had a rare night off, and Kel was working.  Before meeting Kel, he would have spent the night getting laid, probably more than once.  He didn't want to jeopardize the relationship, though.  He had not yet given up on the idea of convincing his lover to join him in going into private practice.  It would be so perfect.  The man could be so obstinate sometimes.  He had briefly considered outing him in order to force his hand.  In fact, that had been at the back of his mind when he had "forgotten" to lock his office door the day Gage had walked in on them.  He genuinely liked Kel, though, and respected him.  And for all of the torment he had been inflicting on Gage, he had no intention of exposing the paramedic to his friends and colleagues.  He wanted Kel to see him for what he was though.  Not gay, obviously Kel wouldn't be concerned about that, but as a phony and a liar of epic proportions. 

If he was completely honest with himself, he was a little jealous of Gage.  He saw the looks Kel gave the paramedic, so full of affection and an almost bemused attraction.  He was sure that Kel hadn't even admitted to himself how he felt.  And it had not escaped Edward's shrewd notice the similarities in appearance between himself and Gage.  Perhaps Edward was a bit more polished, and his hair lighter in color, and more expensively styled, but they were both tall with slender, muscular frames.  That morning at the diner, he had even notice that their clothes were similar.  He had decided right then that it was time to change his style, to exchange his Levi's and plaid shirts for something more appropriate to his professional standing.  Still, it irked him to think that on some level he was a stand-in for the other man, because Kel believed that Gage was off limits. 

Feeling restless and at loose ends, Edward got in his Mustang and drove aimlessly for a while before finding himself at RZ's.  Walking into the bar, he waved at Jackson, the bartender, and headed for the shadowy back wall where, as he had fully expected, his buddies Neil and Zane were on at least their second pitcher of beer, approaching their full bitchy glory as they scanned and commented on everyone who came through the front door.  He had known Neil and Zane since college, when he was struggling by on his meager scholarships, still just a bright but shy kid from Eugene.  They had befriended him, fucked him, separately and together, and introduced him around.  They showed him how a smart, good looking young man like Edward had a lot of opportunities available to him in Los Angeles, if he only knew how to utilize his assets.  And he utilized the hell out of them, burning his way through boyfriends, each one older and richer than the next.  He made it through the rest of college and medical school without needing to fight over any more scholarships.

He was done with that whole scene.  He was a doctor now and could take care of himself, thank you very much.  But he still liked to hang out with Neil and Zane when he got the chance.  They were funny as hell, could name just about anyone who came into RZ's and who they had done, who was a top or bottom, who to stay away from.  Edward wasn't sure about their ages, but guessed they were somewhere between thirty and forty.  Zane was several inches taller than Neil, a bit taller than Edward, even.  Both were obsessed with their bodies, and probably spent at least a couple of hours a day at Purdy's Gym working out and lifting weights.  Edward wasn't sure what either one did for a living.  He did know that Neil dealt drugs, and that for the right price, both of them would do just about anything for anybody, short of murder. 

He didn't care about any of that.  He just liked to sit and shoot the shit with them, which was what they were all doing around 9:30 when the door swung open again and Johnny Gage walked into RZ's.  Edward gave a low whistle and scooted around in the booth a little so that Zane's body blocked his from view.  It was dark where they were seated, but he wanted to watch Gage without any chance of being seen.

"You like?" asked Neil.

"I know him," said Edward. 

"Hmm."  This, from Zane.  "Well, fill us in on the mystery man, Eddie.  Guy just started showing up a couple of weeks ago.  Won't tell anyone his name.  But he sure is popular.  Never stays more than ten, fifteen minutes, and never leaves alone."

"Well, well, well," murmured Edward.  "Gayness confirmed."

"Yeah," said Neil, "we figured he had to be pretty deep in the closet.  Uh oh.  Looks like Nathan has locked on the target.  Maybe you should warn you friend to pass on that one."

"He's not exactly a friend.  Name's John Gage.  You, my friends, are looking at a real, live, gay LA County fireman."

"Oh, my.  It's like an episode of Wild Kingdom in here."  Zane lowered his voice, impersonating a smooth talking announcer.  "Observe this rarely seen creature in its natural habitat.  Catching his scent, the predators at the watering hole stir restlessly-" 

"Whoops," interjected Neil.  "Once again, uh oh.  Looks like he's leaving with Nathan.  I grieve for his poor, sweet, flesh.  I hope he's not a bleeder, or too prone to bruising."

Edward barely heard him.  His mind raced with possibilities, as he rapidly concocted the perfect plan to discredit Gage with Kel.  Like all the best plans, it clicked into place with simple precision.  He smiled.  He would show Kel that he could have John Gage if he wanted him.  But he certainly would not want him.  Neil saw his smile and halted mid-sentence in what had promised to be a lengthy recounting of Nathan stories.

"Eddie...I know that smile.  What is going on in that nasty, brilliant mind of yours?"

Edward stared at him, still smiling.  "Oh, something brilliant.  And definitely nasty.  Can you find me a couple of guys?  Should be cute, a little desperate, and not too picky about how they earn a few bucks."

Zane chuckled.  "In other words, a couple of guys like you a few years ago."

"Exactly.  I've gotta take off.  Call me, okay?"  He strolled out of the bar, trying unsuccessfully to suppress  his grin.  Oh yeah.  This was going to be good.

 

@@@@@@@

 

Kel glanced at his watch, tossed his pen onto his desk and gave his back a good stretch.  It was nearly midnight and his shift had been over nearly two hours ago.  For once, it had been a slow night in the ER, allowing him to make major inroads into the paperwork on his desk.  When he found himself re-reading the same requisition form for the fourth time, he decided it was time to pack it in and go home.  Stuffing the rest of the paperwork in his briefcase and grabbing his coat, he left his office and headed to the nurse's station where Carol sat, updating charts.

"Still quiet?" he asked her.

"Yep," she said.  "Hope it stays that way a little while longer." 

The words had barely left her mouth when a commotion erupted at the ER entrance, consisting of two police officers and two handcuffed, bleeding men, one of whom was cursing loudly and attempting to lunge at the other one, although his arms were held securely behind him by one of the officers.  Noticeably more docile, the second prisoner shuffled along unsteadily with his head hanging down to his chest and his hands behind his back. 

No one else was around, so Kel walked down the hall to talk to the officers.  "What have you got?" he asked.

One of the young patrol officers gave a snort of disgust.  "Lover's spat, looks like."

Kel stepped back a little as the cursing man made another lunge.  His wounds didn't look too serious, just a bloody nose and the beginnings of an impressive black eye.  Kel turned to the second man and did a double-take.  With a small jolt of shock, he recognized John Gage.  The younger man looked miserable and dazed, and refused to meet Kel's eye.  The left side of his face was streaked with half-dried blood from a two inch gash on his forehead which continued to ooze.  Kel could also see a multitude of blossoming bruises, including the unmistakable mark of handprints around his neck. 

"Take him into treatment two, please," he instructed the officer who held John's arm.  "Right through there."  Turning to the other officer, whose prisoner had subsided somewhat, he pointed toward treatment three.  "In there," he said.   Carol had come halfway down the hall by then.  "Can you find Dr. Morton and send him to treatment three?"  She nodded and went to do as instructed.  Kel stood rooted to the spot for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, then entered treatment two.

 Johnny sat on the table, defeat and resignation written in every line of his posture.  For the moment, Kel ignored him and spoke to the policeman.  "Officer, get the cuffs off him please"

"Sorry, Doctor, I can't do that.  He's my prisoner."

"Look, Officer...Dunlop, is it?  I know this man.  I'll vouch for him.  Whatever you think this is, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."  He wasn't so sure, but for Johnny's sake, he would do his best to keep this incident unofficial and off the books.

It took ten minutes of cajoling, playing the authority card, and finally dropping the name of the chief of police, whom he had never actually met, before the young officer was convinced that it would be more trouble than it was worth to take the two men downtown and write up a report.  Besides, neither showed any inclination to press charges.

Office Dunlop sighed.  "Let me go talk to my partner."  He left the room, not bothering to remove Johnny's handcuffs. 

Kel studied the paramedic for a moment, then moved closer and gently touch the gash on his forehead.  Johnny's only reaction was a nearly inaudible hiss of pain.  "We'll get these cuffs off of you in a minute," said Kel.  "Then I can do a more thorough examination."

There was no reply, and before Kel could continue, Officer Dunlop returned.  "Okay, Doc," he said.  "Looks like my partner is willing to let this go.  The other doctor says ‘Bruiser' next door is fine, just a black eye and a bad attitude.  We're letting him go.  You can do the same with this guy when you're through with him."  He removed the cuffs.

"Thanks.  I appreciate it."  Kel watched him go, relief washing over him. 

Seconds later, the door opened again and Dr. Morton stuck his head in.  "Want me to finish up here so you can go home?" he asked.

Kel had been leaning toward Johnny, effectively shielding his face from view.  "No, I've got it."  He waited until Morton left and closed the door.

Johnny had shut his eyes and was clenching his jaw in what could have been pain, distress or a combination of the two.

"Hey," he said, touching his arm.  "You okay?  Johnny?"

After perhaps half a minute, the eyes opened, and for the first time that night, lifted to meet Kel's.  Johnny's wry smile did not quite make it to his eyes.  "Sure, Doc.  I'm okay." 

"I'm going to need to examine you."

This elicited a deep sigh.  "Yeah.  Okay." 

Without being asked, Johnny started peeling off his clothes, and Kel handed him a gown, a little surprised at how quickly he had acquiesced.  When Johnny had changed and was lying quietly on the table, Kel began to check him over.  Other than the cut on his head and some deep bruising on his neck and torso, he did not appear to be badly hurt.  When he helped him roll onto his side, Kel winced a little at the dried blood he saw on his buttocks.  Johnny continued to lay passively as he gently parted his cheeks and took a closer look.  "It looks painful, Johnny, but I don't see any serious damage."  When he helped him onto his back, Johnny looked distant and withdrawn, as if he was willing himself anywhere else but there.

"Let's raise your head up so I can stitch up your forehead," said Kel.  He adjusted the exam table and laid out the supplies he needed.  After wiping the dried blood from Johnny's face and cleaning the wound, he injected lidocaine around the gash and waited for the area to grow numb.  "How's that feel?" he asked.  When Johnny nodded minutely, he carefully stitched up the wound, then applied a dressing.

When he was finished, he halfway expected Johnny to immediately try to bolt.  Instead, in very un-Gage-like fashion, he continued to lay on the table.

"Johnny?"

"Hmm?"  He slid his gaze to Kel's, then back to the far wall.

"Would you like to talk about what happened tonight?"

"Kind of obvious, isn't it?"

Kel grimaced.  "I'd rather not make any assumptions."

Abruptly, Johnny sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table.

"I take it I'm gonna live.  You mind if I get dressed?"

Kel sighed, assuming Johnny wasn't going to say anything more.  "Go ahead," he said.  A moment later, however, the younger man surprised him.

"Doc, I appreciate how you handled the cops.  I'm just...I don't...Ah, fuck it.  I am such an idiot.  Such a complete and total asshole."  He jumped up, winced as he remembered his injuries, and started pulling on his clothes.

Kel just watched, not sure how to respond to his outburst. 

"I mean," continued Johnny, buttoning his jeans and cramming his feet into his shoes, not bothering with socks, "here I let you and everyone else think I'm this straight guy, and then you're thinking maybe you have to worry because I barged in on you, when...you know.  I'm just...I'm sorry Doc.  I don't know what I'm doing anymore.  Everything...my life just could not be any more fucked up."  He pulled his tee shirt over his head, messing up his already disheveled hair, and sank back onto the table, glaring at the floor in abject misery.

Although acutely aware of how inappropriate his thoughts were at that moment, still Kel could not stop himself from noticing how adorable the younger man looked just then.  Pushing those thoughts away, he said in a soft voice, "Maybe it will help to talk about it."

No response.

Kel rolled his stool next to the table and put a finger under Johnny's chin, tilting it up until their eyes met.  "You could start by telling me what happened tonight."

Johnny's shoulders slumped and the tenseness seemed to leave him.  "Well, Doc, what can I say.  I was feeling horny.  I went out, looking to get laid.  It's not...Doc, it's not something I do all that often.  Not until lately, anyway, these past couple of weeks....Anyway, I picked up this guy in a bar.  Or maybe he picked me up.  Doesn't really matter, right?  We went back to his place.  I discovered, a little too late, that the guy likes it rough.  Very rough.  Which is definitely not my scene.  And apparently he is not a big fan of lube.  When I pointed out that I was, and preferred to just take a pass on the night, things went downhill pretty fast.  I guess one of the neighbors called the cops when he chased me out to my car."  He groaned suddenly.  "Shit.  My car.  It's still back at his place."

Kel hesitated.  He had already spent more time at the hospital than he had intended, and he knew Edward was at home waiting for him.  One more look at the misery on Johnny's face, and his decision was made.  "Come on.  I'll give you a ride."

Except for Carol back at the nurse's station, no one was in the hallway when they left.  Johnny was visibly relieved when they made it to Kel's car without running into anyone he knew.  He slumped down, eyes closed.  Kel waited, watching him, seeing the complex emotions that shifted across his handsome features.  Finally, one eye opened and looked a question at Kel.  


"I need directions, Johnny," said Kel.  He smiled, and was gratified to see an answering grin on Johnny's face. 

"Yeah.  Sorry, Doc.  Uh, head south on Figueroa.  It's probably about a twenty minute drive.  You sure you've got time?"

"I've got time."

"Maybe I should grab a cab."

Kel started the car and pulled out.  "Guess not.  Just stay awake and tell me where to turn when we get close."

They drove in silence for a few minutes.  Finally, Kel decided to try to draw the younger man out a little.  "

"Has this happened before?"

"I've had some bad, uh, dates before.  That's just the risk you take when...you know.  I've ended up in the ER a couple of times, but never been hauled in there in handcuffs.  This is definitely one for my scrapbook of memories."

He was making a joke of it, but Kel could hear the pain and self-disgust underneath the light tone.  Kel hesitated, well aware that Johnny would not appreciate a lecture right now, if ever.  Then he gave a mental shrug and plunged ahead anyway.  "Johnny, I know you're a grown man, and the choices you make are your own.  But as your friend, I just want to say that I hope you'll be more careful in the future.  Maybe not jump into something you can't get yourself out of."  He waited, but Johnny didn't respond, so he continued.  "This could have so easily gone a different way.  You're just lucky I was there tonight.  You could be in jail right now."

Johnny stirred restlessly, looking agitated.  "Yeah, Doc.  I know.  I know.  And thanks.  I do appreciate what you did for me tonight.  But like I said, I know I'm an idiot.  I put myself in that situation, and I deserve everything I got."

Kel eyed him for a second before turning his attention back to his driving.  "You can't seriously believe that."

The younger man stared out the window, brooding.

Kel wasn't going to let this drop.  "Johnny, why would you even think such a thing?"

More silence.  Finally, Johnny mumbled, almost too low for Kel to hear, what sounded like, "I am such a fucking coward."

A surprised laugh escaped Kel before he could stop himself.  He immediately regretted it when Johnny shot him an annoyed look.  Really, though, it was laughable that anyone could consider John Gage a coward, least of all the man himself.  Kel was well aware of the dangerous situations Johnny entered into on almost a daily basis, had even observed him in action on a few memorable occasions.  Johnny's body language now told him to just drop it, but curiosity made him push a little further.  "You're going to have to explain that one to me.  I might name you a few things - stubborn, hot-headed, impulsive - but the word ‘coward' is not something I would ever apply to you Johnny."

Johnny was quiet this time for perhaps a full ten minutes.  When he spoke again, it was to instruct Kel to take a left turn, and then a right.  "You can pull in here."  Kel saw Johnny's Land Rover across the street, parked in front of a small apartment complex.  "Well, at least he didn't slash my tires," Johnny said with a tired smile.  Kel waited, expecting Johnny to get out of his car.  Instead, he continued to stare out the window, as if he couldn't look at Kel and still say what he wanted to say.  "You know, Doc," he finally began, "sometimes you screw up big time, and once you realize it, it's too late to do anything about it."

An orange cat strolled into the middle of the road, sniffing cautiously, then skittered into a row of hedges as a dark hatchback came around the corner, going a little too fast.  It disappeared down the block, leaving the street quiet again. 

"Wow, it's late," said Johnny, as if he had only just now noticed.  "You probably want to get home."  Still, he made no move to leave the car.

In truth, Kel was tired, and feeling a little anxious about what Edward must be thinking about his absence.  He saw how low his friend was feeling, and it was clear he needed to get something off his chest, so when the silence had stretched some more, he said, "Talk to me, Johnny."

Another gusty sigh and a brief session of lip chewing later, the younger man finally did just that.  "It's just...I had a chance once.  To be happy.  I found the perfect guy.  He found me, actually.  And I guess he wasn't really perfect.  Pretty close, though.  Close enough.  Know what I mean?"

Kel heard the pain in Johnny's voice.  He waited, knowing there must be more to the story.

Johnny turned in his seat.  The streetlight outside the car threw a weak light on his drawn features.  "Maybe you remember him.  Jason Lindstrom?"

Kel shook his head.  "No.  I'm sorry."

"Well, it was a little more than eight years ago.  Guess you can't remember everyone who dies in your ER."

Kel frowned, a vague memory tugging at him.  "How did he die?"

"OD'd.  Killed himself."

"Wait a minute.  Was he a firefighter?  Young guy?"

"You do remember.  Do you also remember all the gossip that went along with his death?"

"I think so.  He killed himself because someone in the department found out he was gay?"

"That's the short version.  I think his father's reaction had more to do with it than losing his job."

"And he was the one...?"

"Yeah, we were together.  I walked out on him, though, just before it happened.  I found him with another guy.  His old boyfriend."  Kel watched Johnny as a sudden realization seemed to fill him.  "Huh.  I just remembered.  That was the day we first met.  I was injured at a fire and you treated me."

Kel smiled.  "As I recall, you were being difficult, as usual."

"And you weren't having any of it.  In fact, you were downright scary."

They both laughed a little and then fell silent again.  Johnny appeared to have run out of steam, staring past Kel with a closed off look.

"Johnny, why do you think you're to blame for what happened to your friend?"

Johnny stared at his hands, rubbing his bruised wrists absently.  "I was pretty messed up when I met Jason.  Difficult as that may be to believe."  He gave a weak grin.  "He seemed so in control.  So sure of himself.  I thought he could save me from myself, fix everything that was wrong with me.  It never really occurred to me that he might need saving.  I left him even though I knew something wasn't right.  When he was found out, he called me, practically begging me for help.  I screwed up, made all the wrong decisions.  And then...he was dead.  He died alone.  I never even told him how I felt about him.  I-I took everything he had to give me, and I gave nothing back to him.  _Nothing_."

Kel stared at Johnny's downcast face, a little surprised by the depth of emotions the cocky young paramedic had revealed.  He ached for Johnny, but had no clue what to say to ease his obvious suffering.  Finally, he just said, "I'm sorry, Johnny," and left it at that. 

Johnny nodded, having subsided into exhausted silence.  After a bit, he left to drive himself home.  Kel did the same, and when Edward asked him where he had been, he told him he had been with a patient, and didn't bother to analyze the meaning behind that little white lie.


	4. Chapter 4

After a day off spent nursing his wounds and his wounded pride, Johnny found himself back at work, trying to deflect all of the curiosity and wisecracks directed by his shift mates at his still prominent injuries.   He had switched the large dressing on this forehead for a couple of band-aids, then spent five minutes attempting to arrange his bangs so they covered the worst of it.  There was no disguising the yellowish-purple bruise which covered his forehead, or the matching bruises which still circled his neck.  At least he was no longer walking as if he had a telephone pole jammed up his ass, and his headache had finally subsided a bit.  As it was, he would have almost preferred the physical aches to the energy required to deal with his co-workers. 

He was already dressed and seated in the dayroom with his coffee and the newspaper when Roy walked in. 

Roy gave a low whistle as he joined him at the table.  "Looks like you had an...interesting couple of days off."  He grabbed the newspaper from Johnny and set it on the table in order to get a closer look.  "Wow."  His fingers lightly traced the bruises around his partner's neck.  "I bet that hurts.  Did you have a doctor take a look at this?"

"Didn't stitch myself up," said Johnny, trying and failing to make a grab for the newspaper.  Roy had a firm grip on it, and held it well out of his reach. 

With his other hand, Roy pushed Johnny's hair out of the way to get a better look at his forehead.  "Want to tell me what happened?"

Johnny summoned his best ruefully suggestive grin.  "Trust me.  You don't wanna know."

This tired old misdirection did not seem to have the desired effect, as Roy's eyes narrowed, his expression remaining stubbornly serious, as if trying to decide how far to push his partner.  Finally, he just shrugged and tossed the newspaper back to Johnny.  "All right," was all he said, but his tone implied that he wasn't buying what Johnny was selling this time.

As the rest of A-shift showed up, Johnny went through a similar verbal sparring with each new arrival.  None were so perceptive as Roy, of course, and none as persistent and biting as Chet, but they all dropped it soon enough.  They all saw what they wanted to see.  _Fake.  Phony.  Liar._

They made perhaps half a dozen runs to Rampart that shift, and somehow managed to run into Brackett and Pendleton on every one of them.  Both behaved in a blandly professional manner towards Johnny.  Brackett gave no indication by look or comment that anything out of the ordinary had passed between them.  Instead, all of their attention appeared to be directed towards one another. 

Although Johnny doubted that anyone who wasn't aware of their relationship would have picked up on it, he was suddenly acutely aware of the meaning behind the looks they gave one another, and the small, seemingly innocuous touches that passed between them.  Annoyance gripped him each time he saw them together, and by the third run of the day, he had come to the appalling realization that he was jealous.  With that realization, he felt himself drifting into a depression which only got worse as the shift wore on.  By the time he left for home the next morning, the grey mood had settled in for what would prove to be an extended stay.

In the next week, he worked two overtime shifts, and spent what free he had had checking the real estate ads and driving around, just checking out properties.  Like he had told Roy, it would be a while before he had a reasonable down payment, but he had figured that looking would at least get him out of his apartment, which he had seen too much of lately.  After a couple days seeing what was out there, and the prices being asked, he began to think the whole idea was hopeless.  For the first time since joining the fire department he felt trapped and oppressed by his job.  He begged off of a couple of dinners with Roy and his family, claiming to be too tired, which was actually the truth.  His normally high energy level had dwindled to nothing.  During his down time, all he wanted to do was sleep.  He spent some time at the beach, hung out with friends and played pool, took a hike one morning, but nothing he tried made a dent in his depression.

 

It had been almost two weeks since his memorable night with Nathan, and he was back working the A-shift at station 51.  If Roy sensed anything wrong (and knowing Roy, he probably did), he didn't push it.  They had two runs that morning, handling everything as efficiently as usual.  When they stopped at Rampart for supplies, Johnny didn't see Brackett, and only caught a glimpse of Pendleton getting on the elevator, evidently on the way back up to the burn unit. 

On the way back to the squad, Roy suddenly grabbed his arm, stopping him in the hallway.  "Hey, Junior, isn't it about time you got those stitches out?"  He pointed at Johnny's forehead.

Johnny's eyebrows arched in surprise.  He had forgotten all about them, but he knew Roy was right.  The only doctor he had seen besides Pendleton, however, was Mike Morton, who he had been avoiding for the last two weeks, not wanting to give him the opportunity to a make a connection between Johnny's injuries and the injured man that the police had hauled into the ER that night.  "Don't you think we'd better get back for lunch?" he said.  "I'll get these stitches taken care of next time we're here."

Roy looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead he just nodded and let Johnny lead the way outside.  Halfway back to the station, they were called to an unknown type rescue.  This turned out to be a young woman who had overdosed on painkillers.  When they arrived at the apartment, her roommate let them in and showed them into the victim's bedroom.  While Roy did an assessment, Johnny talked to the roommate.

"What happened?" he asked her.

The woman blew her nose and shook her head.  "I don't know.  I found her like that.  I couldn't get her to wake up.  She-her fiancé broke up with her last week."  She shook her head, her gaze distant.  "I tried to be supportive, but I mean, a week and she was still crying all the time.  I finally had to just get away for a while."  She gave a small hiccup, and continued.  "I just went shopping for a few hours.  I thought she was getting over it.  You know?  God, why did I have to leave her alone?  She was so sad..." 

"Now, just calm down," he said.  "It wasn't your fault.  Why don't you just sit down here.  My partner and I are going to take real good care of your friend."  He carried the bio-phone into the bedroom and began to set it up.  "How's she doing, Roy?"

Roy looked at him, his expression grim.  "Not good.  I sure hope that ambulance is close."

Johnny could not take his gaze off of the woman's face as he contacted Rampart and relayed her vitals.  Roy had started the IV and was trying to rouse her, but her pale face remained blank and still.  Not even an eyelid fluttered.  When she went into respiratory arrest they inserted an airway and assisted her breathing with an Ambu bag.  By then the ambulance had arrived, and they got her loaded, with Roy riding to the hospital with her.  As Johnny got into the squad to follow, he saw the woman's roommate standing in the doorway, looking lost.  He drove off, not wanting to meet her eyes or listen to her anymore. 

When he arrived at the hospital, Roy was standing at the nurse's station, talking with Dixie, looking glum.  One look at him told Johnny all he needed to know.  She hadn't made it. 

Dixie set a cup of coffee in front of Johnny.  "We were just wondering what would drive a person to do something like that."  She shook her head.

Roy stared at the counter.  "She was still so young.  She must have felt real alone.  Hopeless.  Still, to do something like that.  It just doesn't make any sense."

Johnny sipped his coffee and uttered a small grunt meant to convey agreement, to express his mutual disbelief.  He felt his stomach give a spasm, however, as he realized that he could, in fact, understand what had driven her to take her own life, and suddenly he was afraid.  Was that the path his own thoughts had been leading him down lately?  He didn't want to believe it.  That wasn't who he was, who he wanted to be.  Unfortunately, the only person who could forgive him for his failures and absolve him of his guilt had been dead for eight years. 

Brackett appeared from treatment room one, looking weary and defeated.  He looked at Roy, grimacing and shaking his head.  "That was a rough one," was all he said.

"Yeah," Roy agreed.  He glanced at Johnny, then back at Brackett.  "Hey, Doc, if you have a minute, do you think you could take a look at my partner's stitches?  I think they might be ready to come out."

Damn.  He was trapped.  Next thing he knew, he was being led down the hall to treatment three, and then he was sitting on the exam table, feeling Brackett's hands on his face.

"Doc," he said, "if you don't have time, couldn't one of the nurses take care of this?"

"It's no problem, Johnny.  It's been a pretty slow day .  Just hold still, would you?"

So he held still, then expelled a breath, trying to ignore the way Brackett's soft, careful touch was making him feel.  He watched his mouth, slowly growing obsessed with the image of himself leaning over, just a few inches, and covering the doctor's mouth with his own.  Growing warm, he dropped his gaze and tapped his hand nervously on the table.

"Stop fidgeting, Johnny.  I'm almost done."

He was starting to perspire.  Brackett smelled good.  He pictured himself wrapped around the man, his nose buried against his neck, inhaling his essence, moving against him....He jumped as Brackett gave his knee a light slap. 

"I said, we're done, Johnny."

"Great.  Thanks."  He started to slide off the table, but Brackett's hand fell on his shoulder, pushing him back down. 

"Hold on.  Let's talk a second."

"Doc?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm doing fine."  He didn't like where this was headed.

"So you say.  I've been worried about you.  Have you been doing okay?"

"Look, Doc, can we just forget about what happened a couple of weeks ago?  Forget about what I said?  I screwed up, things got out of hand, but I'm past all that.  Really."

Brackett's expression clearly showed he didn't believe him, but he held up his hands as if in surrender.  "All right.  Just know that if you do ever want to talk with someone, about anything, I'd be more than happy to listen.  Anytime.  Okay?"

"I appreciate that."  He stood up and this time Brackett didn't try to stop him.  "I better go find Roy.  See you later."  He hurried out the door, feeling the other man's gaze following him.  _Great, now he feels sorry for me._

The first person he saw in the hallway was Pendleton.  _Of course._   He gave  Johnny a smile, and a worried, understanding look almost identical to Brackett's.  _Just perfect.  This day just keeps getting better and better._   He spotted Roy down the hall, holding up the HT, so he strode past Pendleton without acknowledging him, heading to the squad to answer their next call.

 

After his last visit to RZ's had ended so badly, he had had the best of intentions.  He was going to get himself back under control, play it safe, avoid trouble.  That morning, though, a multiple motor vehicle accident at rush hour had kept them busy until several hours after the end of their shift, and he had ended up back at Rampart accompanying two victims.  Once again, he was confronted with the sight of Brackett and Pendleton huddled together. 

"Hey, guys," he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.  "Don't you two ever go home?"

"Hey, Johnny," said Pendleton, making Johnny want to grind his teeth.  "Guess we should ask you the same thing."

Roy appeared next to him.  "Come one partner, let's get out of here.  Want to follow me home for some breakfast?"

"Nah, I think I need sleep more than food right now."

"How about dinner tonight?  You haven't been over in a while."

Johnny was watching the two doctors.  Brackett gave a soft laugh at some shared joke and Pendleton gave his shoulder a brief squeeze, then glanced over at Johnny, who grew red-faced at being caught staring.  Pendleton gave him a knowing smile, and Johnny forced his attention back to Roy, who was waiting for an answer.  Johnny almost accepted the invitation, but instead made his rash decision right then.  "Ah, no, Roy.  I have some things to take care of tonight.  Another time?"

"Sure, no problem.  Let's go."

Johnny couldn't resist one last look at the two doctors as they headed down the hall.  Pendleton was giving him an odd look, that annoying smile still lingering on his mouth.  Johnny resolutely turned his gaze to his partner's back and followed him down the hall. 


	5. Chapter 5

As he dressed to go out that evening, Johnny tried not to think too hard about what he was doing.  He knew he was behaving recklessly, but the compulsion to return to RZ's was too strong.  He needed this, needed to have the feel of someone else's hands and mouth on him, to drive away the emptiness which had begun to haunt him, and to replace his fantasies of Kel Brackett with something real, at least for a brief time.

He made the familiar drive, and parked a few blocks away.  Entering the dim, smoke-hazed interior of RZ's, he made his way to the bar and sat down, signaling the bartender.  What was his name?  Jack?  No, Jackson.  Johnny gave him a tight smile as he slid a bottle of beer in front of him.  He took a long pull of beer and glanced around the bar.  He spotted Nathan at a table against the wall looking lonely and morose.   Nathan glanced up and saw Johnny, stared for a moment then gave a small shrug of his shoulders which could be interpreted as apologetic.  Johnny relaxed, knowing that Nathan wouldn't bother him again, and would probably wait for new, unsuspecting prey.  Maybe next time he would find someone more appreciative of his style. 

Johnny sighed.  The place was pretty dead that night.  He saw a couple of regulars at a back table, seemingly involved in an animated discussion.  No prospects there.  He was finishing his second beer and beginning to think he should either try somewhere else or go home, when the seats on either side of him were filled simultaneously by two young frat boy bookends. 

"Hey," said the blonde frat boy on his left.  "Can we buy you a beer?"

Johnny eyed him, mildly interested, but not too sure about the "we" comment.  He usually avoided threesomes.  On his right, the dark haired  bookend was already motioning to the bartender.  Three bottles were plunked down, one in front of each man.  "Uh, thanks," he said to Dark Hair. 

He reached for the beer, but Blonde Hair had a hand on his knee, leaning in to murmur in his ear.  "Did you know that guy over there's been checking you out?" 

Johnny recoiled a little from the cheap cologne Blonde Frat Boy had evidently been pickled in, but looked where he was nodding.  All he saw was Nathan, picking at the splintery tabletop and looking bored.  "Don't think so," he said.  He turned back to face the bar, catching a furtive movement by Dark Frat Boy in his peripheral vision.  The guy was just sitting there, though, drinking his beer.  _Getting a little jumpy, there, Gage._   He grabbed his own beer and drank down about a third of the bottle, thinking that maybe he should just finish it fast and get out of there.

His bookends seemed to have different ideas, however.  Blondie's hand had moved up his leg to caress his inner thigh.  Johnny stared at the guy's hand, took another swallow of beer, and decided that it actually felt pretty good. 

"You looking for someone to go home with?" asked the blonde guy.

"Possibly."  He looked to his right and then to his left and startled himself with the idiotic laugh that bubbled up out of him.  "What am I supposed to do?  Flip a coin?"

The dark haired bookend threw him what he probably thought was an alluring pout, and swiveled his bar stool to face Johnny, his knee coming to rest against Johnny's.  "You don't have to choose.  We're kind of a matched set."

Johnny laughed again.  "Yeah, I can see that.  Could you guys maybe just back up a little?  I'm feeling a little surrounded here."

Another gulp of beer relaxed him further.  His eyes slid shut for a second, and he felt a hand on his arm, lips on his neck, a tongue in his ear (which he swiped at ineffectually - _yuck...he hated that_ ) and then one of his naughty little bookends was kneading his crotch, and he'd had about enough.  He pried his eyes open, surprised by how heavy they felt.  Suddenly, he didn't like the predatory way the dark haired guy was looking at him, and he decided he could not get past the foul cloud of cologne surrounding the blonde.  So he finished off his beer. 

"Thanks again, guys," he said, trying to detach hands and mouths from the various spots they were landing on his anatomy, "but I think I'm going to call it a night."  When he stood up, the last beer he'd had caught up with him and he swayed, feeling a little lightheaded.  "Whoa.  Definitely time to hit the road."

"You okay to drive?" said the blonde bookend, grasping his arm. 

Another wave of dizziness swept over him.  He was vaguely aware of hands on either side holding him upright and steering him out the door, but hard as he tried to keep them open, his eyes kept fluttering shut.  "I'm fine, guys," he said.  Maybe he said it.  He may have only thought it.  His limbs were moving, but he could no longer feel them, and a flare of panic managed to pierce his fading awareness.  After that, the world disappeared on him for a while.

 

 _I think he's coming around._

The room was dark, and someone was giving him a rather clumsy blow job.  The guy could use some pointers.  He didn't want to be rude so he gave a low moan.  Losing concentration, he started to zone out again when a bright flash jerked him awake. 

 _Turn him over._  

The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't seem to pry his eyes open far enough to see more than dim shapes moving around him.  He felt them, though.  Hands grasped him, moving his boneless limbs this way and that.  He wanted be concerned, to care that people he didn't know had control of him, but the hands felt good, they weren't hurting him, they were stroking him everywhere, arousing him, giving him pleasure, so he let them.  Bright light again, sharp and sudden.  He squeezed his eyes tightly together. 

 _Look over here, Johnny_. 

Why had he told them his name?  Careless.  A sweet, sharp scent surrounded him, burning his nostrils, then slick fingers entered him and he groaned, wriggling backwards, panting.

 _Come on, Johnny.  Open your eyes.  That's it.  (*FLASH*)  That was a good one._

"Stop that," he mumbled, growing irritated with those flashes of light.  He drifted for a second, then surfaced again to the feel of someone expertly riding his ass, hitting him just right.  When another cock appeared, insinuating itself between his lips, he was happy enough to oblige.  And then it was all sensation and movement and that damn light kept flicking on and off and he was coming hard and semen was hitting the back of his throat as a warm weight collapsed on top of him.

He lay panting and drifting, once again being pulled this way and that.  More flashes.  "Damn, can't you change that fucking light bulb already?"  His voice sounded muffled and slurred, but he must have gotten his point across because the flashes stopped.  He tried to push himself up.  "Anyone seen my clothes?" he mumbled.  Then something sharp pricked his hip and that was the last thing he remembered before he dropped like a rock.

 

Johnny squinted an eye open to the bright glare of sunlight.  His head was pounding and the inside of his mouth was bone dry and tasted foul.  Forcing his other eye open, he was surprised and a little relieved to find himself reclining in the driver's seat of the Land Rover, still parked where he had left it last night.  _At least I wasn't stupid enough to try and drive myself home._ He rubbed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened the previous night, and how he had gotten back here.  He was sore, but in a good way, and despite the headache he felt amazingly relaxed.  _Must have had a good time,_ he decided.

Pulling himself a little straighter in the seat, he lifted his arms to give his back a good stretch and caught a whiff of something unpleasant.  He lowered his nose to his shoulder, sniffing.  The stale smell of cheap cologne filled his nostrils, triggering a memory of the two clean cut young men who had approached him in RZ's.  Snatches of memory started to surface, bodies moving together in a dark room, and something else he should remember, but couldn't.  A flicker of unease touched him, but he shook it off.  After all, here he was, all in one piece, sitting in his own car.  He'd had a little too much to drink, that was all, but he had come through unscathed this time.  Laughing a little unconvincingly, he decided to chalk it up to a learning experience, started the Rover and drove home.

 

He slept much of the day and straight through the night, but the following morning he woke up still feeling fuzzy and out of sync.  He barely made it to work on time, and figured he must look pretty bad when Roy did a double-take as he walked into the day room for his first cup of coffee.

"You okay, Johnny?"

He considered the question, and opted for honesty.  "Not really.  Had a rough couple of days off.  I think I may have had one too many beers the other night.  Hit me kind of wrong."

"Maybe you should try getting more sleep."

"Thanks, Roy.  I'll keep that in mind.  Guess fourteen hours just isn't going to cut it anymore."

"Fourteen hours?  You sure you're not coming down with something?"

"Pretty sure."

"Well, did you ever consider that maybe you're getting too much sleep?"

Johnny gave a small laugh and stared at Roy over the top of his coffee mug.  "Thanks, Roy," he said drily.  "I will definitely take your advice under consideration."  He loved talking to Roy.  Not everyone got him like Johnny did, but the guy had a goofy side that always lightened Johnny's mood.  Maybe it would be a good day after all.  He found himself smiling as he went into roll call, determined to shake off the uneasy feelings he still had about the other night.

The day did get off to a great start.  Their first run of the morning was a woman who had gone into labor in her car on the freeway.  Johnny took the lead and helped her deliver a healthy baby boy.  He rode in with her, and as he rejoined Roy in the ER he fairly bounced with elation.  Delivering babies always had that effect on him.

"Roy, did you see that kid?" he said, as they started toward the nurse's station to pick up supplies.  "That was one good looking kid.  All that hair.... "

Roy was smiling too.  "I think he had your nose."

"Had my-oh, ha, ha.  You're a funny guy."

"Well, thank you.  Hey, you mind getting started with the supplies?  I need to hit the restroom."

"Sure, no problem."  Johnny threaded his way down the hallway.  It was a busy morning in the ER.  He saw a lot of faces he recognized, and he smiled and nodded absently, his mind still on the life he had just helped bring into the world.  No one was at the desk when he got there, but he saw Dixie at the base station taking a call.  He rested his elbows on the counter, waiting for her to finish and notice him. 

He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see what it was.  Several people hurried up and down the hallway, none looking his way.  A splash of color on the countertop caught his eye.  Curious, he reached for the small square and picked it up. Then his eyes flew open and he gaped at the Polaroid photograph he held in his hand.  He went cold, and then hot, staring at the photo.  It was a picture of him, naked, looking dazed and sweaty, on his stomach being ridden by one man, with another kneeling in front of Johnny, offering him his cock. 

His surroundings faded around him, and he may have made a small, strangled noise.  His head swiveled, looking up and down the crowded hallway, but everyone seemed to be moving away from him.  Two paramedics from 36's hurried a gurney towards an exam room followed by a nurse carrying an open chart.  A flash of a white doctor's coat slid into another room halfway down the hall.

"Hi, Johnny," came Dixie's voice behind him. 

He gave a jump and tried to cram the photo in his shirt pocket, but panic made him clumsy and he watched it flutter to the floor.  Roy had emerged from the restroom and strode towards him.  Johnny knelt and scooped up the photo, jamming it into his pocket just as Roy reached him.

"What you got there, Junior?" he asked, looking at him curiously.

"Nothing."  Roy continued to stare.  "Oh, just some, uh, notes I was making about some...stuff."  _Let it go, Roy...let it go,_ he chanted in his mind, and for once Roy obliged him.

"All right," he said, as if humoring Johnny.  "You get the supplies yet?"

"Just waiting on Dixie to get free," said Johnny, forgetting that she was standing right behind him

"So...you guys need something?" she asked.

Johnny gave another little jump and spun to face her.  "Hi, Dix," he said, giving her a weak smile.  Now _she_ was giving him an odd look.  He searched her face closely for any sign that she had seen the photo, but she just appeared bemused and a little impatient.  He couldn't stop his face from flaming as he remembered what he had in his pocket.  "Roy needs supplies.  I'll meet you outside, Roy."  He spoke the words in a breathless rush, then darted away from them, feeling their eyes tracking him as he hurried out the door.

He stood next to the squad, staring at the door handle, too anxious for a moment to get inside.  He fingered the photo in his pocket, then jumped at the sound of his name.  Just one of the nurses saying hello.  He couldn't pull her name out of his scrambled brain, but gave her a smile and a nod.  Finally, he opened the door and sat down in the passenger seat, glancing at the doors to the ER, then looking around to make sure no one was nearby.  Feeling himself start to perspire, he pulled the photo from his pocket and took another look at it, to make sure it really was what he thought.  Another wave of hot and cold washed through him and he thrust it back in his pocket again, checking and rechecking to ensure it couldn't be seen.

Someone had left it there on the counter, just tossed it next to him as they moved past, where anyone could have seen it.  Was it a message?  A threat?  He closed his eyes, struggling to remember back to the other night, after he had left RZ's.  _A dark room.  Two young guys, the frat boy bookends from the bar.  Confused memories of touching and being touched, being entered, sucking and being sucked.  And through it all, those annoying flashes of light_.

His eyes popped open.  Camera flashes.  More than one.  A lot of them.  He felt sick, his mouth dry.  He needed a drink of water, but Roy was coming out the door carrying a box of supplies.  He knew he should get out, make himself useful, but he felt paralyzed. 

Then Roy was sitting next to him, shaking his head, annoyed with him.  "Appreciate the help," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Johnny knew he should say something, apologize, or shoot back a witty retort, but even his vocal cords seemed frozen. 

"Johnny?  You okay?"

He realized that Roy had been asking variations of the same thing for about a minute, growing increasingly concerned by his partner's silence.  "I don't think so, Roy," he whispered, but ignored Roy's further attempts to draw him out, because what was there to say, after all, when the most carefully guarded part of yourself was about to be dragged out into the light, all the lies had gone for nothing, and your world was crumbling around you?

 

Four hours later, Johnny was back at Rampart, his bruised and sprained knee being prodded by an unsympathetic  Dr. Morton.  For once, he bore it in silence, aware that it had all been his fault.  He should have let Roy take the lead and climb the rusty metal ladder to coax the kid down from the water tower.  He hadn't been in the mood to be gentle and had only agitated the kid further.  Next thing he knew, little Mark had leapt with evil intent (in Johnny's opinion) into the startled paramedic's grasp, kneeing him in the stomach and causing his foot to slide off the narrow rung.  Clinging to the squirming little monster, one leg dangling in mid-air, his other foot had pivoted on the rung, slamming his already twisted knee against the side of the tower.

After treating Mark to a few choice words to liven up the kid's vocabulary, Johnny had to wait while Roy climbed up to help the boy the rest of the way down.  As he clung there, his knee throbbing, he stared at the ground below. 

The brief adrenaline rush had faded, and he felt utterly drained.  He knew he should start making his way down, but he didn't want to face what waited for him down there.  He didn't know when, and he didn't know where, but sooner or later those other photos were bound to surface.  The way he figured it, the length of time between now and when that happened was the measure of how much time he had before his life as a firefighter/paramedic effectively ended.  He heard Cap calling up to him, asking if he needed help getting down.  Johnny blinked lazily, thinking how easy it would be to just let go.  He blinked again and shook himself, then started the halting climb back to the ground.

He was quiet as Roy checked him over.  Mark had not sustained any injuries, so Roy went ahead and drove Johnny to Rampart in the squad.  Johnny balked a little as Dixie met them with a wheelchair, but he shrugged and took a seat.  As she wheeled him down the hallway to an exam room, he felt his body tense, waiting for the other enormous size thirteen triple E shoe to drop.  When it didn't, he endured Morton's efficient but humorless ministrations, accepted the bottle of pain medication, and rode back to the station with Roy, released to go home for the rest of the shift.


	6. Chapter 6

Kel was standing at the kitchen counter preparing an early dinner when Edward strolled in around  four-thirty.  Something in his smug, secretive attitude rankled enough that Kel's greeting came out clipped and distant.  He immediately regretted his coldness, remembering his resolve after their last fight to try harder.  Turning, he pulled Edward close for a quick hug and lingering kiss before returning to slicing carrots for the salad he was putting together.

Edward opened the refrigerator to get them each a beer.  He spotted the chicken breasts which Kel had put in to marinate.  "Those look good," he said, setting Kel's opened beer on the counter in front of him and planting a moist kiss on the back of his neck.  He dropped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, stretching his long legs in front of him as he took a long swallow of beer.  "So aren't you even going to ask?"

Kel laid the knife on the cutting board and turned to face Edward.  "Ask what?" 

"Where I've been all day."

"Where you go is none of my business."

Edward gave him a lazy smile.  Not that long ago, Kel would have been thoroughly charmed by that smile.  "Really?  You sure seemed to think differently yesterday morning.  Decided to put a little slack in my leash between then and now?" 

Kel  had been hoping they wouldn't have to revisit the events of yesterday morning, when Edward didn't make it home until nearly 3:00 a.m., and had finally appeared, reeking of someone else's appalling cologne, and refusing to say where he had been.    Now, observing the malice and humor in Edwards pale blue eyes, Kel struggled to keep control of his temper.  "All right.  Maybe I overreacted.  Let's just drop it, okay?"

"If that's what you want.  Anyway, it's no big secret.  I was at the hospital today."

"On your day off?  Since when do you put in another minute more there than you absolutely have to?"

Edward had his beer bottle raised to take a drink, and he paused, eyeing Kel with an unreadable expression, then drank deeply.  "You're still pissed at me."

"Not at all."

"There it is."

"There what is, Edward?"

"That fake, deep, calm tone of voice you use when you're angry."  He finished off his beer.

Kel turned back to the counter.  Seeing the untouched beer still sitting next to the cutting board, he picked it up and handed it to Edward.  "I don't want this."  Sudden irritation flooded him that after all the months they had known each other, Edward still couldn't remember that Kel preferred scotch, not beer.  He picked up the knife and went to work dissecting a green pepper.  "Since you're obviously dying to tell me, why were you at the hospital today?"

"Just a little project I've been working on.  Thought I might have it wrapped up today, but the patient went home early."

"I won't even pretend to know what you're talking about."

"You'll know soon enough."

"I'll know what, exactly?" Kel snapped.  He threw the knife onto the counter and turned around.  "You know I hate these kinds of games, Edward.  So why don't you tell me what in the hell you're talking about?"

 "Hmm.  Maybe you're right.  Let me just ask you one thing, though."

"Ask away."

"Come on.  Sit down for a minute."

Kel eyed him suspiciously, then shrugged and sat across the table from Edward.  "All right.  You've got my undivided attention.  What do you want to know?"

"Do you love me?"

" _What_?"

Edward grimaced.  "It's a pretty straightforward question, baby.  Are you in love with me?"

Kel hesitated, searching his face for any hint of humor or irony, but for once Edward appeared to be perfectly serious.  "No," he finally said.  "I'm not."

Something like grief seemed to flicker over Edward's handsome features, then he smiled coldly.  "No.  I didn't think so.  So tell me something else.  How do you feel about John Gage?"

Kel gave a frustrated sigh.  "Not this again.  For fuck's sake, Edward, what is your obsession with the man?"  He was going to say more, then paused, sudden realization dawning.  "Is he who you were with the other night?"

Edward's eyes widened.  "That's quite a leap, considering last I heard you still thought he was straight."  He smiled again, his gaze directed inward, as if savoring a memory.  "But, yes.  I've...sampled him.    If you ever have the opportunity, don't pass it up."  He gulped some beer, then grinned, gaze fixed on Kel.

He was struck momentarily speechless.  "You and Johnny."  He felt...he wasn't sure what he felt.  Not shocked.  Disappointed, maybe.  When it occurred to him that it wasn't Edward he was disappointed with, but Johnny, he nearly laughed.

"You seem surprised, Kel."

"A little.  I guess I always thought Johnny had better taste."  He said this deliberately, wanting to wound.  Apparently he succeeded.

Edward pulled himself up a little straighter in the chair, eyes narrowing in anger.  "God, you're pathetic.  The way you drool over him when you think nobody is looking.  It's embarrassing.  Sad thing is, you could have had him anytime you wanted.  The guy is a total slut."

"That's hardly fair, considering that you are the one who was in a relationship, not him."

"Was?  So that's it, huh?  I speak one bad word against your precious Johnny, and you're just going to write me off, never mind all the months I've invested in this relationship.  Well, how about if I show you what your little pet is really like?"

Edward reached in his jacket pocket and tossed a square of paper on the table.  "There," he said.  "That's the guy you are so infatuated with.  You like that?  You wanna do _that?"_

Reluctantly, Kel reached for the square and turned it over.  He froze, staring at the photograph he held.  _Oh, Johnny._ He was nude, looking completely out of it, a tiny, perplexed smile on his face, with his eyes barely open.  He had obviously been posed, with one man behind him, propping him up into a seated position with his arms underneath Johnny's armpits.  A second man held Johnny's flaccid cock in one hand, his tongue hovering over it as he mugged for the camera.

Shock turned to tender sadness, and finally to cold anger.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.  Edward didn't answer, just drank his beer, set the bottle on the table and gazed at Kel, not quite smiling, utterly unrepentant.  Kel dropped the photo back onto the table.  "Edward, I'd like an explanation."  When Edward reached for the beer again, Kel grabbed the bottle from him, rising to his feet as he turned and hurled it towards the sink.  He missed, and the bottle smashed  against the tile backsplash.  Beer foamed and trickled to the counter.  Wet brown glass dotted the cutting board and decorated the salad like garnish. 

Edward jumped a little, wincing.

"Something bugging you, Kel?" he asked, his voice losing a little of its bravado.

Kel struggled to get his fury under control.  He sat down, breathing hard, and took a moment to study the man with whom he had been so intimate for all these months.  He had seen and dismissed Edward's occasional tendency towards recklessness and petty cruelty, choosing to focus instead on his quick humor and the remarkable, filthy things he could do in bed.  Now, as he looked at the undisguised spite and contempt on Edward's face, his suddenly felt weary, disillusioned and old.

"Are there more of these?" he asked.

Edward stared at him defiantly, eyes glittering like ice, but said nothing.

"I want those photographs."  No response.  "Now!"  He slapped his hand on the table and was gratified to see Edward flinch once more.  He wasn't ready to back down yet, though.

"I don't think so, Kel.  I've got other plans for them."

Kel sighed again.  The little shit didn't know who he was dealing with, but he was about to find out.  "All right, Edward, I'll make this as clear as I can.  After we're done here, I'm going to the hospital, and you are going to pack your things and clear out of here tonight.  I don't want to find so much as a trace of you after you're gone.  But before that happens, you are going to explain to me what your role is in all this.  And you're going to give me those photos.  Before you even think about defying me, please try to remember that just a few words to the right people at Rampart and your career is over.  So unless you want to end up back in Eugene working the graveyard shift at the free clinic, I suggest you get me those photos."  He waited.  "Now, Edward."

Their gazes locked.  The naked hate in the other man's eyes surprised Kel a little, but he didn't relent.  After a time, Edward looked away, as Kel had known he would.  After all, he had been at this a lot longer.

"Fine," said Edward, his voice tight with loathing.  He reached back into his jacket pocket and flung perhaps a two inch pile of Polaroid's on the table.  The photos fanned out in front of Kel, revealing Johnny in a variety of poses, on his back, on his knees, on his stomach, along with two other men whose faces occasionally appeared on the edges of the photos, but were mostly anonymous bit players.

Kel scooped up the photos, tapping the edges on the tabletop to align the edges until he had a neat pile.  Filled with distaste, he flipped through the stack, slapping them down on the table like he was dealing cards.  Striving to view them objectively, he noted that Johnny appeared to be drugged, floating just at the edge of consciousness, his eyes at half mast.  Some of the poses were grotesque, meant to humiliate.  Some of them Kel found, in spite of himself, highly erotic, in particular one where Johnny's head was flung back as one of the men knelt behind him, several fingers disappearing inside him.

Finally, he'd seen enough, and he paused, holding the last picture in his hand.  He shifted his gaze to Edward, shaking his head, baffled.  "Why, Edward?  What did he ever do to you?  What on Earth would possess you...?"  It was clear he wasn't going to get any answers.  He sharpened his tone.  "Are these all of them?" 

Tossing the final photo with the others, he started to turn the pile over, not wanting to look at them anymore.  Then he froze, staring intently at what lay before him.  This last one was different from the others in two respects.  First, Johnny lay prone, his eyes shut, slack and fully unconscious.  Second, a different man rode him, his hands gripping Johnny's hair, and Kel recognized the scar on the back of the man's hip, and the three aligned freckles which had always reminded him of Orion's Belt, the only stars in the night sky which he could consistently recognize.  The man was Edward, the same man who sat in front of him now, smiling, leaning back in his chair as he finally answered Kel's last question.

"That's almost all of them," he said.  "All except the one Johnny has.  I was kind of sorry to give that one up.  It was one of my favorites."

Alarms started going off in Kel's head.  "Johnny knows about these?"  _Oh, shit._

"I'm sure he's figured it out by now.  I left him his little souvenir at the hospital.  Must have rattled him a little.  I heard he nearly fell off a water tower."

Kel slowly rose to his feet, holding the photos.  "I swear to God, Edward, if any harm comes to Johnny because of this, not only will I see to it that you lose your license, but I'll press charges against you myself."

Edward's smile faltered a little as he stared up at Kel.  "There's no way you can prove I had anything to do with this.  Maybe someone sent me those photos.  You can't prove I was there."

"Really?  Do you truly believe I'm that stupid?  Or maybe you just got a little careless.  Don't forget, I've seen every inch of your body, up close and personal.  Did you think I wouldn't recognize you?"  He held up the picture of Edward and Johnny, careful to keep it out of the other man's reach.  "What did you do Edward?  Give him another dose of whatever you drugged him with before you had the guts to rape him?"

That shut Edward up, but only for a moment.  He recovered quickly.  "Oh, come on.  He got exactly what he went out looking for that night.  I'm not going to shed any tears for that low class trash.  Besides, I was only trying to do you a favor.  No good deed, huh?"  He stood, his chair scraping back across the linoleum floor with a shriek.  "We done here?  Yeah?  Good.  I guess I'll go pack my things, as ordered." 

Kel watched him saunter down the hall, feeling a little as if he had fallen down the rabbit hole.  "Jesus," he muttered, trying to collect his scattered thoughts, wondering how he was going to fix this.  The first thing he had to do was find Johnny.  Recalling the night the police had brought Johnny to the ER, when he had talked to him about his friend Jason who had died of an overdose, Kel felt a flash of fear which he immediately tried to talk himself out of.  _Johnny would never consider that.  Would he?_  

He realized he didn't know Johnny well enough to know the answer to that question.  Throwing on his black leather jacket, he slammed out the door, heading for the elevator.  Johnny was on shift today, so chances were good that he would run into him at the hospital.  As he pulled his car into traffic, cutting off a city bus in his haste to be on his way, he only hoped that Johnny was managing to keep it together. 

 

@@@@@@@@@@

 

Edward leaned against the windowsill in the master bedroom, peering through venetian blinds and down ten floors.  When he spotted Kel's dark green Jaguar exiting the parking garage he flopped down onto the bed, almost groaning with frustration.  Things had not gone at all as he had planned.  He had never seen Kel so angry before.  Shivering a little, he remembered the look on his face when he whipped that bottle against the wall.  So intense, so focused...so much like he looked when he was fucking Edward's brains out and sending them both screaming into the stratosphere.  He stroked himself through his trousers, wishing he could have channeled some of that intensity into a farewell fuck from the good doctor.  He didn't see that happening now.

Nope, he had definitely underestimated Kel's feelings for Gage.  Couldn't say he really blamed him, not after getting his own taste of the man.  Even unconscious and unresponsive, he was one delectable piece of ass.  Fucking him himself hadn't been part of the plan.  He was only there to take pictures and direct Kyle and Sal.  After watching them go at Johnny with such obvious relish, however, he just hadn't been able to resist. 

Now he unzipped his pants and slid his hand inside his briefs, touching himself idly, then rubbing himself with more purpose, but after a few minutes he gasped in aggravation, finding it difficult to concentrate as his fantasy shifted back and forth between angry Kel and pliable Johnny.

Finally he stood up and went to the tall dresser in the corner, where Kel had allowed him the left half of the second drawer from the bottom to keep his clothes.  Digging underneath the messy pile of socks, he found the photo he had planned to keep for himself, his own souvenir from that memorable night.  This one was nearly identical to the one Gage had, only Johnny's eyes were almost all the way open and he was looking directly into the camera.  He dropped the photo on the bed and removed his trousers and briefs.

Kel thought he'd had the last word, that Edward would jump to his commands like everyone else.    He would pack up and clear out, just like Kel wanted, but before he did, he would leave more than a trace of himself behind.  He lay on his back, legs splayed out, and grabbed his cock in one hand and the photograph in the other.  Focusing on the image of Gage, he pumped his hand up and down, rapidly bringing himself to completion, and then ejaculated all over the expensive bedspread.  After he got his breath back, he stood and went to Kel's closet, choosing what he knew to be one of the doctor's favorite dress shirts, wiped himself on it and tossed it on the floor.  Not very subtle, he knew, but it was exactly the sort of thing which would drive Kel nuts.

After that, it took him less than ten minutes to cram his clothes and toiletries into his gym bag.  Although he had been living in Kel's condo nearly full time for the last several months, he had kept his own apartment, and most of his things were still there.  As he walked out the door for the last time, he stuck the photo of Gage in his jacket pocket.  He still had to decide who to send it to.  Probably somebody in the fire department.  If it showed up at Rampart, Kel would be all over him, no doubt following through on every threat he had made. 

Whistling, he headed out the door, already thinking ahead to the meeting Neil and Zane had set up for him with their doctor friend who was looking for a partner.  He was only a general practitioner, specializing in diet pills and tranquilizers for bored housewives and high school kids, and definitely lacking the prestige of a Kel Brackett, but Edward had a feeling he wouldn't be welcome at Rampart much longer, and it was a start.  He'd be fine.  He was always fine.


	7. Chapter 7

The first person Kel saw when he reached the hospital was Dixie.  He was driving too fast, heading for his reserved spot, and almost didn't notice her as he sped past.  She was just putting the key in the lock of her baby blue Cutlass Supreme.   Right then, her friendly ear seemed just the thing he needed.  He hit the brakes and threw the Jaguar into reverse, backing into the empty spot next to hers, and then gave his horn a quick beep to get her attention.  She turned, arched an eyebrow at him, and then leaned in his open window, her arms on his windowsill.

"First Edward, now you?  I figured you two would be spending your day off together.  At home."

Kel just grimaced and rolled his eyes.

"Ah," she said.  "Fighting again, huh?"

"You could say that."   He opened the passenger door.  "Sit with me for a minute?"  He waited while she walked around his car and climbed inside, then breathed in her delicate floral scent, for a moment just enjoying her familiar presence.  "Dix, it's officially over between us.  Thank God.  He's home right now packing his things."    

She gave him that knowing smile which both provoked and warmed him.  "So.  You finally figured out what an insufferable little prick he is?"

Kel laughed.  "You knew all along?  I wish you would have shared that with me sooner."

"Hey, who was I to get in the path of rampant male lust?  Might have been trampled underfoot."

They watched two nurses pass by on their way to the entrance.  Kel shook his head again, remembering the scene with Edward.  "It was ugly, Dix.  I can't tell you everything, but it got pretty nasty."

"Well, knowing you, it was probably even worse for him."

He chuckled ruefully.  "Am I that bad?"

"You can be truly frightening when you want to.  Luckily for me, I'm not easily scared."

As they sat in companionable silence for a few moments, Kel felt Dixie watching him.  He turned and saw the speculative gleam in her eyes.  "What?"

"Nothing much.  Just thinking."

Kel waited, but there was simply no out waiting Dixie McCall, so he finally had to ask, "And what are you thinking about?"

"Oh, just that now you're a free man again, maybe you'll finally do something about your feelings for a certain paramedic."

Kel scowled.  "That's absurd, Dix.  I don't have feelings for Johnny."

She smiled triumphantly.  "No?  You sure knew who I was talking about, though, didn't you?  Nope.  Don't try to deny it.  I know you too well.  I've seen the way you look at him."  She paused with her hand on the door handle.  "Oh, and Kel?"

"Yes, Dix?" he said, gazing across the parking lot and feeling a little exasperated.

"He looks at you the same way."

His swiveled his head to stare at her.  "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that every time you're within ten feet of him, Johnny looks like he wants to throw you onto the nearest exam table and suck your tonsils down his throat.  I think you'd better either have a talk with him or else fuck him silly before the poor man's head explodes."

"Dix!" 

"Oh, don't look so shocked.  We've known each other too long for that."

He watched her walk back around to her car, then called to her through his open window. "Wait, a second, Dix."

She turned to him, arching her perfect eyebrow once more.

He grinned at her.  "Have I ever told you that you're one of my favorite people?"

"Not nearly often enough," she said, sliding into the driver's seat.  She backed out of her space and accelerated out of the parking lot, the strains of Duke Ellington's "Take the ‘A' Train" blaring from the car's enormous custom speakers.

Still smiling, Kel headed for the ER entrance.

 

Carol was at the nurse's station, having taken over for Dixie.  As Kel passed her on the way to his office, he left instructions to be informed the next time the paramedics from 51 brought in a patient.  Entering his office, he closed the door behind him and sank down in his chair, leaning back wearily to stare at the ceiling.  He thought of the photographs locked in the glove compartment of his car and became appalled all over again at the utter, pointless malice of what Edward had done to Johnny.  On the drive to the hospital, he had debated whether or not to even show the photos to Johnny, but had ultimately decided that he deserved to know,  to have the option of pressing charges against Edward.  He didn't think he would, but that was Johnny's choice to make. 

He sifted disinterestedly through his inbox, amazed as always by all of the new paperwork which had accumulated in his absence.  Pondering whether he should start trying to make a dent in the pile or go grab something eat, he was saved from having to make a decision when his phone rang.  He picked it up and Carol let him know that the paramedics from 51 were on their way in. 

What should he say to Johnny?  It would probably be sufficient just to let him know that he could stop worrying, that his private life would not be made public, and his career was not in jeopardy.  Kel doubted he would have the opportunity today to do much more than pass that message along, but that alone should put Johnny's mind at ease enough to prevent a potential disaster. 

Beyond that, he wasn't sure.  Maybe he'd try to make arrangements to meet him tomorrow away from the hospital.  At the very least, he was owed an apology, and since he wasn't about to get one from Edward, Kel would have to provide one in his place.  In truth, he did feel guilty for bringing Johnny to Edward's attention, as illogical as that was.  Apparently Edward had seen or sensed the same chemistry growing between Kel and Johnny as Dixie had.  Kel still wasn't sure what he thought about that, and wasn't prepared to examine it yet or speak to Johnny about it.  If that conversation ever happened, it would have to wait until the current mess was resolved.

With all these thoughts circling through his head, he headed down the hall, but stopped short when he saw Roy standing at the nurse's station with Charlie Dwyer, not Johnny.

"Hi, guys," he said, then turned to Roy.  "Where's your regular partner?"

"He got a little banged up earlier.  Morton sent him home."

"Oh?  Anything serious?"  He remembered Edward's comment about Johnny nearly falling from some sort of structure. 

"No, just painful.  His knee took a little bit of a jolt.  He's probably out cold by now, full of painkillers.  It's just as well.  He looked pretty rough when he got to work this morning.  Then he started acting real strange.  He denied it, of course, but I think he might have been coming down with something."

Kel frowned.  This didn't sound good.  In his current frame of mind, Johnny might be tempted to do something foolish.  Roy was turning to leave, but Kel stopped him with a hand on his arm.  "You know, I was just heading out.  I think I'd like to stop by and check on him.  Do you have his address?"

If he was surprised by the request, Roy hid it well.  He gave Kel Johnny's address and directions to his place.  Kel checked his watch as he stopped by his office to retrieve his jacket.  It was nearly 6:00.  He wasn't sure how long Johnny had been home, but if Edward had heard about his injury before he left the hospital, then it had to have been at least two hours.  Suddenly anxious, he strode towards the exit, barely acknowledging Carol as she said goodbye.

 

Twenty minutes later, Kel stood in front of Johnny's second floor apartment, pounding on the door for the third time, and starting to panic.  Just as he was wondering if he should go find the manager to let him in, the door swung inward and Johnny squinted sleepily out at him, balancing his weight on one narrow, elegant foot and running a hand through his already thoroughly mussed hair.  He was dressed in a pair of light blue boxers and a faded black tee shirt.  And he was exceedingly drunk.

"Doctor Brackett?"  His voice was hoarse, as if he had been sleeping, and the words came out slightly slurred.  "Am I awake?  Am I sick?  Are you lost?"

Kel couldn't help but smile, both in relief, and at the somewhat nonsensical series of questions.  Then he remembered why he was there, and sobered.  "Can I come in?" he asked.

He saw Johnny hesitate with an almost pained expression on his face that had nothing to do with his sprained knee.  Then he opened the door all the way and limped back into his dim apartment, leaving Kel to let himself in.  He found Johnny slumped in an armchair with a can of beer in his hand, eyeing Kel warily as he seated himself on the sofa across from the paramedic. 

"How's the knee feeling?" he asked, starting to feel the full awkwardness of the situation. 

"You're here about my knee?"

"Not entirely."  Curious, he looked around the living room, taking note of the framed nature photographs on the wall, the worn, comfortable furniture, and the room's neat appearance, excluding the five empty beer cans on the coffee table.  When his gaze fell upon the prescription bottle almost hidden among the crumpled cans, he had to restrain himself from snatching it up and checking inside.  He looked back at Johnny and he felt his pulse do an odd little dance as he stared into the man's confused brown eyes.  "I wanted to check on you.  And I need to talk to you."

Johnny nodded, closing his eyes briefly as he took a swallow of beer.  He peered over at Kel, seeming to have trouble focusing.  "I was just sitting here thinking."

"About what, Johnny?"

"Lots of things.  Life.  Work.  Friends.  Jason.  Death.  Suicide.  All that big stuff.  Hang on a sec."  He stood up, swayed a little as he strove to find his balance, and then limped into the kitchen.  Kel heard the refrigerator open and close, then cupboard doors banging open then shut, and the clink of glasses.  Johnny's voice drifted out to him.  "Thought I had some scotch around here somewhere.  This might be okay instead."

Kel shifted forward on the couch, snatched up the bottle of pain medication and read the label.  _Meperidine, 24 count, 50 mg tablets._   He unscrewed the top and poured the pills into his hand, relieved to see a large number of them remaining.  Glancing at the entrance to the kitchen, he began rapidly counting the pills back into the bottle.  He wasn't fast enough.  The bottle was still in one hand and half the pills in the other when Johnny reemerged with a fresh beer and a tumbler filled with ice and an unknown dark liquid.

Johnny froze, seeing what Kel was doing.  The liquid in the glass sloshed over and he set it on the coffee table, shaking the excess off of his hand.  "Hey, what are you doing Doc?  What are you-what are you implying?"

Kel finished his count, finding only two tablets missing, and replaced the lid.  "I was worried about you.  I know you got that photograph today, and now you're talking about suicide, and with your history with Jason..."  He trailed off, knowing he was rambling a little.

Johnny stared at him a moment longer, then dropped down into the opposite corner of the sofa.  "You know about that photo?  Oh, man."  His eyes drifted shut, then popped open again.  "Doc, I said I was _thinking_ about suicide, not that I was thinking of _doing_ it.  Sheesh.  I had about twenty reasons when I was growing up to do that if I wanted."  He drank his beer, then waved his free hand at the glass he had brought with him.  "I'm outta scotch, Doc.  Not sure if I ever had any.  That stuff's almost the right color, though."  He continued to stare blearily at Kel.  "Go on, have a drink with me.  Let's call it a wake for my career."

Kel scooted over closer to Johnny and tried to take the beer from him, but he held it out of his reach.  "Johnny, you know better than to mix alcohol and pain meds.    Come on, give it to me."

"Okay.  If you have a drink with me.  Just one."  He grinned.  "Look at you.  You look all worried.  I think you could use a drink, Doc."

Kel rolled his eyes.  It looked like Johnny was going to be stubborn.  And it looked like he was too far gone for a serious discussion.  "Fine," he said.  "One drink then we get you to bed.  Deal?"

"You bet."

Kel leaned over and picked up the tall glass tumbler which was filled nearly to the top.  He raised it to his lips, but Johnny stopped him, placing his hand on his arm.

"Wait.  I wanna make a toast."

Kel waited, but Johnny did not continue.  "Johnny?"

"Huh?"

"What did you want to toast to?"

"What?"

"You were making a toast."

"See, thass just it, Doc."

"Johnny..."

"Uh oh.  You're getting that scary voice."  He had deepened his own voice, mimicking Kel.

Kel took a fortifying breath, praying for patience.  "Johnny.  What would you like to toast to?"

"To...Um...I dunno.  Let's jus' drink."

"Sounds good."  Raising the glass, he drank.  "Gah!"  He spit the liquid back into the glass.  "What _is_ that?"

"Rum.  I think.  And some really old sherry."  He looked at Kel, squinting.  "Not too good?"  Grabbing the drink, he took a sip.  "Yeah that's bad."  He set both glass and can on the coffee table and gave a deep sigh.  "I really wasn't going to kill myself," he said, as if that is what they had been talking about all along.  "It's just that everything's that's been happening lately had me thinking about Jason, and then there was that woman a few days ago who killed herself, and here I am, and if Jason went down that path, why shouldn't I, you know?"

"Johnny-"

"No, wait, wait, lemme finish.  I had this all figured out before you got here."  He closed his eyes, frowning, then opened them.  "Oh, shit.  It's gone.  Guess I'll have to tell you later."  He grinned, staring at Kel.  "I can't believe you're here, sitting on my couch."  The grin disappeared.  "Why are you here again?"

Kel was transfixed.  He had never seen Johnny so shit-faced before.  Part of him was concerned that he had mixed meperidine and alcohol, and part of him dreaded the conversation he had come here to have about Edward and the photos.  Right now, though, he couldn't stop staring at Johnny as he tried in vain to follow the bounces and rebounds of the man's thoughts.  He was so focused on his mouth and his dark, expressive eyes that he missed the question until he realized that Johnny had stopped talking and was waiting for an answer.

"Doc?"

"Sorry, Johnny.  What was that?"

"I said, why are you here?"  He appeared to struggle to focus his thoughts.  "Does Pendleton know you're here?"

Kel blew out a breath.  "Edward and I aren't together anymore."

"Oh."  Johnny stared down at his hands, considering this news.  His head started a slow bob, up and down.  "I think I see.  You and Pendleton broke up, so you thought you'd run over here and take your turn with Johnny Gage, Disneyland's newest E ticket ride."  He snatched up his beer, stood, and lurched back to the armchair.  Dropping heavily into the chair he took a long swig of beer.  "Well, I'm sorry to tell you, Doc, but this ride is closed for the season.  You'll have to see customer service about a refund."

"Johnny, that's not why I'm here."

"Wazzat?  You don' wanna fuck me?  Or fuck with me?  Or just generally use and abuse me?  Guess you're more particular than the guys I've been with recently.  Well, good for you, Doc.  I always knew your taste was impec-impecca-real good."  He stood up and headed down the hall, then turned and limped back a few steps and thrust his face toward Kel.  "I'm going to bed."  He finished his journey down the hall and disappeared through the bedroom doorway.  Moments later, his head reappeared around the doorframe.  "And you are not invited."  He moved inside and the door slammed shut.

Kel waited a minute or two, wondering if he should go after him, then he heard faint snores coming from behind the door.  He rested his head on the back of the sofa.  "Oh boy."  Johnny would be out for a few hours, at least.  Maybe until morning.  He debated whether he should stay or go and come back later, and decided to stick around.  The sooner he got Johnny straightened out, the better.  And he should probably keep an eye on him.  Despite his protests to the contrary, he wasn't completely convinced that Johnny wouldn't try something foolish. 

So he turned on the television and prepared to wait.  After a bit, his growling stomach reminded him that he had skipped dinner.  Johnny's kitchen didn't hold anything which appealed to him, so he hunted around for the yellow pages and ordered a pizza.  When it arrived, he decided a beer actually sounded pretty good.  William Powell and Myrna Loy were on the late movie, solving crimes with their dog Asta.  He settled himself more comfortably on the couch, lying down with a throw pillow under his head and his jacket thrown over his chest for a blanket.  A couple of hours later he dozed off, reflecting on the strange twist his life had taken which had him sleeping on Johnny Gage's couch.

  



	8. Chapter 8

Johnny's throbbing knee woke him up.  One eye squinted at the clock on his nightstand.  5:30.  Morning, presumably.  As he swung his legs over the side of the bed and struggled to sit, he realized that his head was throbbing too, his bladder was about to rupture, and the inside of his mouth felt like sandpaper and tasted like the place where toxic waste goes to die.

He limped to the bathroom and balanced precariously on one leg as he peed for nearly a full minute.  Then he brushed his teeth and his tongue, eyed himself critically in the mirror and ran his fingers through his rumpled hair before giving it up as a lost cause.  His throbbing knee reminded him that he was past due for more pain meds, so he limped out to the living room and stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the sofa.  Dr. Brackett lay stretched out on his back with a jacket draped over him, snoring lightly.  Half a dozen empty beer cans, a glass of some unidentified liquid, and a cold, half eaten pizza littered the coffee table.

Johnny shook his head slowly.  "My life just keeps getting weirder and weirder," he muttered.  Taking care not to wake Brackett, he liberated the prescription bottle from the jumble of cans, hopped into the kitchen for a glass of water and downed two tablets.  After starting a pot of coffee, he leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching Brackett sleep, while he searched his muddled memory for some clue as to what had happened last night which had ended with the doctor apparently passed out on his sofa.  Distracted from his efforts by the sight of the pizza and the growling of his stomach, he snagged a couple of slices and subsided into the armchair.

Munching on cold pizza, he tried to reconstruct the evening.  He remembered driving himself home following his injury, then the slow, agonizing climb up two flights of stairs to his apartment.  After that, a couple of pain pills and a beer chaser had seemed like a pretty good idea.  He'd been upset about something.  _Oh yeah.  That damn photo._  

That memory recalled the feelings he'd been struggling with yesterday, of despair and impending disaster, but for some reason things didn't seem as dire this morning.  He felt lighter, less troubled, so he followed that thread of thought, and then he remembered thinking about Jason, and his death.  As he had sat alone in his apartment with a full bottle of pain meds and a couple of six packs of beer in the refrigerator, it had dawned on him that if he chose, there was no one to prevent him from reenacting Jason's final act and ending his life.  He had no intention of doing that, but if he had, nobody could have stopped him, and no one in the world but himself would have been to blame. 

And that was when he had finally realized that the same had been true for Jason.

That epiphany, which had only taken eight years and the probable end of his career to come about, had brought such relief that he had felt compelled to celebrate by drinking another beer.  After that, his future seemed less daunting, and he knew that whatever happened, he would at least put up a fight for his right to remain in the department, and if he failed, he could move on to something else, even somewhere else, without the crushing burden of self-imposed guilt which had weighed him down for so long.  With _that_ realization, a third beer had seemed in order, and then a fourth, and it must have been some time after that that Brackett had showed up, but he sure as hell could not remember that momentous event.

Too bad, he thought, brushing pizza crumbs off his chest and gazing intently at the sleeping doctor.  He liked what he saw, from his thick, dark, sleep-tousled hair to his faded jeans and his sock clad feet.  Johnny bent down to peer under the coffee table and spotted the pair of scuffed tan cowboy boots leaning against each other.  _Nice._   He wouldn't have pegged Brackett for a Tony Lama kind of guy.  He wished he had seen what he looked like all put together, but that part of the night remained a confusing blur.  Maybe if he had been less wasted....

He frowned.  Why was the doctor here?  Johnny knew his injury hadn't been all that serious, so that couldn't be the reason.  Bracket stirred restlessly, making faint moaning sounds that had Johnny's ears perking up, and other parts of his anatomy perking up as well. 

Johnny glanced down at his wrinkled boxers, sniffed his tee shirt, and thought maybe he should go take a shower and get himself spruced up a little.  Before he could act on that thought, Brackett rolled toward the edge of the sofa, dislodging his jacket, which slid to the floor.  Johnny shot to his feet to retrieve it, intending to place it back over the doctor.  As he lifted it, a cascade of photographs fell from the pocket and drifted to the ground.  His mouth fell open as he took in the array of images jumbled on the floor and resting against his bare feet. 

" _Shit._ " 

He didn't realize he had said it out loud until Brackett's eyes opened and he sat up, looking up at Johnny and then down at Johnny's feet, seeming to grasp the situation immediately.  "Shit," said Brackett.

As Brackett made a dive for the photos, Johnny went for them as well.  He dropped to one knee, but unfortunately it was his injured one, and he yelped, rocking backwards onto his butt, holding his knee.  Eyes watering from the pain, he watched as a groggy but agile Brackett scooped up the photos.  The doctor froze, giving Johnny a guilty look, then he sagged backwards to lean against the couch.  Sitting on the floor together, they stared at each other for a moment in silence.  Johnny stretched out a hand, waiting, but Brackett seemed reluctant to give up the photos.

"Hand ‘em over, Doc," he said.  After a pause, Brackett gave them to Johnny. 

He looked at what he held in his hands.  Guessing that they existed and actually seeing them were two different things.  The slices of pizza he had just eaten began performing unpleasant gymnastics in his stomach.  Making a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, he forced himself to sift through the photos, stopping every so often to examine one more closely.  He could feel Brackett watching him, and so tried to keep his reactions from showing.  At first he felt numb, not quite believing it was actually himself he was seeing, but it was no use denying it.  _Screwed up again, Gage._  "You've looked at them?" he asked, and glanced over to see the other man nodding.  "Oh.  See anything you like?"

"Johnny-"

"Wow.  I guess I never realized how photogenic I am.  And look at this."  He held one up, showing it to Brackett.  "I'm a pretty flexible guy.  Not everyone bends like that, you know."  He came to the end of the pile, taking a little longer to stare at the last one in which his eyes were closed.  _Man, I was really out of it...what the hell is that guy doing to me?_   He looked back over at Brackett.  "Doc, why were these in your pocket?"

Brackett heaved himself to his feet, then offered his hand to Johnny and pulled him up.  "Do I smell coffee?"

Johnny nodded, wobbling and watching Brackett. 

"I know you have a lot of questions, Johnny, and I'm not trying to avoid them.  I just need to clear the cobwebs out of my head first."

"Fine.  I'll grab you a cup."

"No, don't.  You need to get off that leg.  Sit down and I'll be right back.  Then I'll explain everything.  I promise." 

Johnny watched Brackett gather up the empty cans and the full glass and carry them to the kitchen.  Mortified as he was by the whole situation, he still couldn't help admiring the way Brackett's ass looked in those jeans. 

Johnny sat on the sofa and placed the stack of photos on the coffee table, eyeing them worriedly, trying to ignore all the questions that whirled through his mind as he waited for Brackett to return.  Finally they were both seated on the sofa, sipping their coffee.  Johnny put his down first.  He noticed that Brackett didn't appear ready to talk anytime soon.

"Doc?"

"Give me a second to wake up, would you Johnny?"

He waited some more, and the silence stretched.

"Look, I need some answers, Doc.  I wake up and find you sleeping on my couch, and I've got no clue why you're here or how you got here.  And then these pictures fall out of your pocket and I'm starting to think something, and I don't like what I'm thinking."

Johnny had seen that irritated look on Brackett's face often enough, but he was working up a good head of steam and didn't see any reason to stop.  "I mean, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, since I found you out here and not in my bed spooning me, but you gotta be honest with me Doc.  Did you or did you not come over here last night looking to get laid?"

Brackett choked on his coffee and banged the mug down on the table.  "Christ, Johnny.  That's twice now you've accused me of that.  I hate to tell you this, but you're not as irresistible as you seem to think."

He felt himself blushing.  "I don't think that."  Then he realized what Brackett had said.  "Twice?"

"Yes, twice."  Brackett sounded a little calmer.  "Last night you pretty much implied the same thing."

"Oh.  Sorry.  I'm pretty hazy on what went on last night."  His eyes narrowed.  "What else did I say?"

"Johnny, I have to be at the hospital in a couple of hours, so why don't I just tell you why I'm here?"

 _Uh oh.  He's using that fake, calm doctor's voice._ Johnny shifted, turning his body toward Brackett and trying to find a comfortable position for his knee.  He must have winced, because the next thing he knew, Brackett was crouched in front of him, helping him raise his leg, placing it on the couch with a pillow underneath it.

"You want some ice for that?"

"No, thanks."  _Quit stalling, Doc._

When Brackett made a move toward the armchair, Johnny grabbed his arm and pointed at the opposite corner of the couch.  "Do you mind?  It's easier to see you over there."  Brackett sat down, turned slightly in Johnny's direction, his thigh just inches from Johnny's foot. 

"Okay," said Brackett, "the first thing you need to know is that you've now got all of the photos that were taken of you the other night."

"Oh.  That's good, I guess.  Who else besides you has seen them?"

"No one.  Except...."

"Except?"

"Johnny, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am about this."

"What do you mean, exactly?" he asked, growing alarmed.  "Shit.  Did Morton see them?"  Brackett didn't answer.   "Dr. Early?  _Dixie_?"

"Stop, Johnny.  No, not them.  As far as I know, the only other person who has seen them is the one who took them.  Damn it.  There's no easy way to say this.  I want you to know that I've taken care of Edward.  I've kicked him out of my home.  He won't be allowed back in my ER, and if he has any sense of self-preservation at all, he should be gone from Rampart in fairly short order."

He stared at Brackett blankly.  "Pendleton."  The pain meds were making him fuzzy again, so he had to think about that for a minute.  Then the full, utter absurdity of it hit him.  " _Your boyfriend?_   He did this?  Are you kidding me?" 

He didn't even realize that he had leapt off the couch and was pacing around the room until the pain in his knee caught up with him.  He ignored it.  "He...he...what exactly?  Had his two buddies slip something in my drink and...and...took those pictures of everything that went on and then gave them all to you?  Why?  Was...was he like some kind of demented cat, just playing with me like a mouse, and then he brings the mouse back to you and lays it at your feet?  A smelly dead mouse for Kel?  Is that what I am?  A stinking mouse, with all its organs and intestines just spread out all over the place...." 

He halted, dimly aware that his thoughts had jumped the track at some point.  He spun to face Brackett as something occurred to him.  "Doc...please tell me you had nothing to do with this.  No.  No, that doesn't sound right."  He was muttering, his head down, and was only vaguely conscious that Brackett had risen to his feet.  "That doesn't sound like you.  He's the creep.  You're not a creep.  You're my friend.  Just a friend.  Which is a shame, but I'm too resistible for more than that.  You've seen how disgusting I am.  I don't blame you.  I'd resist me too --"  He looked up, surprised, at the feel of the other man's hands holding his upper arms. 

Brackett was steering him back towards the couch, and he planted a foot, pulling back in the other direction. 

"Calm down, Johnny" said Brackett.  "You're going to hurt yourself."

Johnny shook Brackett's hands off him, but lost his balance and knocked into him.  Instinctively, he grabbed Brackett's shoulder to keep from falling, his momentum spinning them around and sending them both crashing onto the couch, with Brackett half-reclining on his back and Johnny lying on top.  He looked down to see Brackett's lips located a convenient and tempting two inches beneath his. 

They stared at one another, surprised.  _Don't do it Gage.  Don't you do it,_ he told himself, but apparently not firmly enough to counteract the sensation of Brackett's sudden erection pressing against his hip.  Panting, feeling Brackett's unsteady breaths which matched his own, he managed to hover there for five more seconds, then he grabbed hold of the doctor's face, shut his eyes and let his head fall those last two inches. 

Brackett's lips parted beneath his, perhaps from arousal or perhaps to voice his objection, and without pausing to determine which it was, Johnny jammed his tongue inside, tasting, sucking hungrily, tilting his head for better access, shifting his body to align them groin to groin, losing himself in sensation.  When he felt the other man move restlessly beneath him he smiled as he kissed him and then opened his eyes to meet the wide, intensely angry gaze of Dr. Brackett.

Startled, Johnny jerked backwards, dropping the man's face like a hot potato.  Balanced precariously on only his knees, he slipped as the injured one protested, and heard Brackett gasp as his elbow dug into the doctor's ribcage.  "Oh crap.  Sorry," he muttered, rolling to take his weight off of him, but he used a little more force than necessary and fell to the floor.  He lay on his back, struggling to breathe, and looked up to see Brackett peering down at him.  He was laughing.  At least he didn't look angry anymore.

"You okay, Johnny?"

"I'm okay."

"That was a short season."

"Huh?"

"Never mind.  How's your knee?"

"Knee's okay."  He started to rise, but stopped when he felt Brackett's hand on his shoulder.

"Johnny?"  He had stopped laughing.

"Yeah, Doc?"

"I'm coming down there."  


"Doc?"

Johnny watched, astonished, as Brackett slid down to lie next to him on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, hip overlapping hip.  And then his mouth was descending and all Johnny could think was, _oh thank god._  

This kiss was slower, more controlled than the first one, but just as hungry.  Brackett rested his hand on Johnny's neck and their tongues performed a rough, sinuous dance which had Johnny's pulse thudding, and his body vibrating to the pure, perfect frequency of Kel Brackett.

Sometime later, when breathing was becoming a problem, he felt Kel's mouth leave his, and his body pull away.  Johnny opened his eyes and lifted his head off the floor, watching as the doctor stood, checked his watch and shot Johnny an apologetic smile.  "I really have to get going.  Have you seen my boots?"

Johnny tensed, thinking maybe he had overreacted to one kiss.  Well, two kisses, really, but still... He sat up, running his hand through his hair, nervously eyeing the erection that tented his boxers.  He cleared his throat, pulling Kel's cowboy boots from under the coffee table and handing them up to him.  "No, no.  _I'm_ sorry.  Think maybe I can blame that on the meds?"

Kel sat down to pull on his boots.  "Stop apologizing.  Believe me, you have nothing to be sorry for.  That was...nice.  God, more than nice.  I don't mean to run out on you in your condition-" he glanced down at Johnny's cock and grinned, "--but I barely have time to get home and shower and change as it is."  He looked at his watch again and stood up.

"Not a problem."  He heaved himself to his feet, standing awkwardly, watching Kel shrug into his jacket.  "Sooo....so ya around?"

"I...we have to talk about this, Johnny.  I'm not sure we've even finished our first discussion."  He indicated the pile of photographs.  "And now...this was unexpected.  We should probably take a step back, think about it, talk about it, and decide what it all means."  He was heading for the door.

"Absolutely."  Johnny limped after him, stopping when they reached door and Kel turned to face him.  "And it was totally the drugs.  Probably.  So just forget all that back there --" he waved his arm in the direction of the couch, " -- cuz I'm going through a very confusing time in my life right now, feeling rather vulnerable and - _aackk_!"

Kel's hand shot out to grab his cock through his shorts, stroking firmly.  His other hand grasped Johnny's shoulder and he pivoted him around on his good leg, shoved him against the door and claimed his mouth for another shattering kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, Johnny reluctantly moved away from the door to let Kel leave.

"I'll call you, Johnny."

"You'd better.  Or I'll have to hunt you down and kill you."

Johnny heard Kel's laughter through the door.  He stood for a moment balanced on his good leg, hands on hips, and stared down to where his fully erect cock strained against the cotton of his boxers.  "Well, that was just rude," he muttered.  Then he smiled, and he kept smiling, and it felt like he would be smiling for a very long time.

  



	9. Chapter 9

Johnny might have made it to work for his next shift, but he'd had some things to take care of, and as it turned out, he wasn't able to rest his knee as much as he should have.  After Kel left for work, he took a shower, drank some more coffee, and waited a couple of hours until his head felt clearer.  Then he threw the pile of photographs (which he refused to look at again) in a paper bag and hopped one-footed down the stairs to where the Rover was parked.  It was warm for late fall, but he knew the foothills would be cooler. 

Traffic was light, and less than an hour later he pulled into the almost deserted campground and parked near the picnic area by the lake.  Only one other person appeared to be around, an older man halfway around the lake, flying a kite, which was a barely seen bright yellow diamond dipping and bobbing against the grey, gathering clouds.

Johnny's leg had stiffened up some, so he dry swallowed one pain pill and made his way to the closest fire pit.  He was relieved to see that the last people who had used the site had left behind a small pile of kindling and a few decent sized logs, as he hadn't been looking forward to hobbling all over the place scrounging up wood.

Shortly, he had a small fire burning, and began feeding photos into the flames, watching them blister, blacken and curl, trying not to think too hard about all the chemicals being released into the clear, fall air, and hoping he wouldn't be treated to the sight of any local squirrels, chickadees or woodpeckers dropping lifelessly from the aspen and spruce trees.  Finally, the entire pile had been reduced to ash.  He let the fire burn a while longer, thinking idly that he should have brought some marshmallows to toast.

Before he left the campground, he made sure the fire was completely extinguished, then spent another twenty minutes strolling around the undergrowth near the parking lot, carrying the paper bag he had brought with him, and occasionally stooping to snip off a cluster of leaves and slip it into the bag, being careful not let any part of the plants touch his skin.

By the time he made it back to the Rover, his knee was throbbing again, but he decided not to take any more tablets until he got home.  After navigating the beginnings of rush hour traffic and making it back to Carson, he made two more stops, first at a small specialty shop where he purchased a few items, and lastly he hit a fast food drive-through to pick up a couple burgers and a shake for dinner. 

At home, he ate the burgers and took a couple more pain pills.  He was disappointed to see that there were no messages on his answering machine.  After debating for a few minutes as to whether or not he should try to call Kel, he decided to wait at least until the next day.  His insecurities were attempting to kick in but he kicked back.  He was a guy.  How many times had he told a woman he would call her, and waited a couple of days to do just that, only to find her miffed and offended that he had waited so long?  So Kel hadn't called yet.  No big deal.  Johnny felt fairly certain that he would, eventually.  They would see each other at the hospital in a few days, at any rate.

By 7:00 he was yawning hugely, so he stripped down to his boxers, collapsed into bed and was asleep within minutes.

Around 11:00 he heard the phone ring, but was too tired to get up and go answer it.  The answering machine clicked on and he smiled sleepily, not bothering to open his eyes, as he heard Kel's deep voice in the other room.  Only catching a word here and there, he couldn't make sense of what was being said.  He'd listen to it in the morning.  Drifting off again, smiling, his last thought was, _guess I'm not so resistible after all_.

 

By the next morning he had begun to think he should forget about his plans for the day, and just let the universe deal out its own justice.  He fixed himself a bowl of Wheaties, pushed play on the answering machine and listened intently as Kel's tired voice filled his kitchen.

 _"Hey, Johnny.  Sorry to call so late.  You're probably asleep.  Looks like I'm going to be here all night.  We're a little short on doctors right now.  You already know about one of them.  And if you can believe this, Mike injured himself hang gliding.  You have my permission to give him a bad time about it.  It might be a couple of days before I can see you again ,or longer if you take your next regular shift off, which I recommend.  So, real quick, I wanted to let you know that if you decide to press charges, I'll back you up all the way.  Uh, the person we discussed, in case you had any doubts, is the third individual in those photos.  And don't worry about running into him.  He already turned in his resignation and will only be working upstairs for another week.  Anyway...uh...I'll see you soon."  A pause, and his voice dropped lower.  "Looking forward to it."_

Johnny spooned cereal into his mouth as he considered what he had just heard.  Pendleton had done more than take pictures.  He had participated.  As that sank in, he set down his spoon and pushed the bowl away.  _Okay, screw that justice of the universe crap.  Pendleton is toast._

Even if he hadn't already destroyed all the evidence, Johnny would not have pressed charges.  He had no desire to make the whole sorry incident public.  No, he had something better in mind, and since he had already worked out all the details, there wasn't anything left to be done except finish his coffee and think about what else Kel had said in his message. 

Suddenly he smiled.  _Morton hang gliding?_   _That poindexter.  Unbelievable._  

After a quick shower, Johnny got dressed and called the hospital.  "Dix?  It's Johnny.  I need some information..."

 

@@@@@@@@@@

 

Roy DeSoto was in a shitty mood.  He had arrived at the station to discover that Johnny's knee was evidently still bothering him, and he had called in sick, so Roy was stuck with Ken Morris as a partner.  They had been paired together once before, and Roy had hoped he would never have to endure another 24 hours like that.  Morris was a couple of years older than Roy, but had only gotten his paramedic's certification six months earlier.  He seemed to think he knew everything there was to know, couldn't take direction without becoming defensive, and had a coarse, obnoxious sense of humor which Roy did not find in the least humorous.

To top it off, at roll call Cap had assigned Roy latrine duty.  This normally wouldn't faze him, but the previous evening he and Joanne had gotten roped into dinner out with Joanne's friends, Kitty and Shepherd Frakes.  Kitty as in cat, Shepherd, as in German Shepherd, as in cats and dogs.  Yeah he got it, he'd gotten it the first time they mentioned it, and it hadn't gotten any cleverer the second, third or fourth time they brought it up.  So he had ended up having a couple of glasses of Chianti too many with his veal parmigiana in order to make the evening bearable, and had woken up with a pounding headache and a queasy stomach which had him popping Tums like they were Lifesavers.  Now he had to go stick his head in the toilet and inhale cleaning products when he would much rather be back home in bed with the covers over his head, praying for merciful death to take him. 

He and know-it-all Morris had already checked the drug box and finished the morning calibrations.  Roy was sitting in the day room with a cup of coffee, steeling himself for the job ahead when Cap stuck his head in, saw Roy, and flipped an envelope at him.  It sailed the few feet between them with impressive accuracy and dropped on the table in front of Roy.  He gave Cap a weary, questioning look.

"That came for you in the mail yesterday," Cap said.  He paused, looking more closely at Roy.  "You okay, pal?"

"Yeah, Cap, I'm okay.  Just gonna finish my coffee and then get to work."

"All right, Roy.  Sounds good."

Alone again, Roy sipped his coffee and glanced disinterestedly at the envelope on the table.  Who would send him mail at work?  Probably junk mail.  There was no return address.  His address was handwritten, however, which seemed unusual for junk mail.  He considered tossing it in the trash, took a swallow of coffee, reconsidered, and ran a finger under the flap of the envelope to open it.  He frowned, thinking at first that it was empty, then saw the colored, white-framed square which had settled in one corner.  After another sip, he fished out what proved to be a photograph, choked on a harsh inhale of coffee, and coughed hard for half a minute, trying to catch his breath. 

Chet sauntered in, heading for the coffee pot, and glanced at Roy with concern.  "Something caught in your throat, Roy?" He detoured to Roy to give him a couple of thumps on the back. 

Roy had snatched up the photograph and held it face down against his leg, underneath the table.  "I'm fine, Chet," he wheezed.  "Whew.  Gotta remember to swallow my coffee, not inhale it."

"Good thinking."  Chet's gaze dropped to the table, taking in the opened envelope.  "You get some mail, Roy?"  Without waiting for permission, he grabbed it for a closer look.  "No return address.  What's this say?"  Roy nearly jumped out of his skin when Chet pulled a folded slip of paper from the not-so-empty-after-all envelope and opened it up.  He read the handwritten note out loud.  "The Real John Gage."  He looked at Roy, his forehead crinkled in confusion.  "That's all that was in there?"

Roy nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Weird."  Chet appeared to think for a moment.  "Wait, wait.  I think I get it.  It's supposed to be some kind of a joke.  The envelope is empty, so whoever sent this is saying that Gage is a nothing.  A blank."  He shook his head slowly, lip curling.  "Some prank.  That's not even funny.  In fact, it's downright mean.  Geez.  Amateurs."  He let the note and envelope flutter to the table and strolled out of the room, still shaking his head.

Roy let out the breath he had been holding.  He slid the photograph a little higher on his leg and took a quick peek at it before standing and shoving it in his pants pocket, followed by the note and the envelope.  After dumping his coffee and rinsing out the mug, he retreated to the latrine, entered the stall and locked the door.

He pulled out the photograph for a closer look.  Yep.  That was definitely Johnny, pictured with two other men, and they were -

 _Holy cats, Junior.  Gayness freaking confirmed._

He removed the scissors from his assessment kit, preparing to cut, but let them hover in the open position before setting them on top of the toilet tank.  Curious in spite of himself, he examined the photo more closely.  One man knelt behind Johnny, his cock apparently inside him, an arm wrapped around his hips and the other grasping his shoulder.  Another man knelt in front, almost out of the frame except for part of his torso, his hands, and his cock which he was in the act of sliding between Johnny's waiting lips. 

Roy felt himself blush as he realized that his partner seemed to be staring right at him, and despite his somewhat glassy gaze, the brown eyes fairly smoldered with the intense pleasure which gripped him.  Roy had never before seen a man's face suffused with passion like that.  He found it difficult to tear his gaze away.  When he noticed himself growing hard, he blew out a breath and swiped away the perspiration forming on his upper lip. 

Finally, he picked up the scissors and methodically cut the photo into tiny pieces and flushed them down the toilet, then flushed again to make sure that every single bit had gone down and wasn't going to come back up again. 

He stared down at the bowl as it refilled, wondering if the contents of his stomach were about to follow the route just taken by the confettied photo.  Taking some deep breaths, he leaned against the cool metal of the door behind him and stuck his hands in his pockets, regrouping.  His hand touched paper, and he pulled out the envelope and the note which had accompanied the photo.  He reread it.  _The Real John Gage._   His brows knit together and he gave a sigh.  He had thought he'd known the real Johnny, but apparently he had thought wrong.

As he rounded up the cleaning supplies, several questions occurred to him.  Who had taken the picture?  Why had it been mailed to him?  Had anyone else received one?  Did Johnny know about it?  And perhaps the most difficult question: what, if anything, should Roy do about it?

He was almost grateful when the tones sounded, sending the station to an unknown rescue, and putting a stop to all the unanswerable questions, at least for the moment. 

 

The squad and the engine pulled into a residential neighborhood.  Vince Howard waved them over to the scene, which Roy took in with a glance.  A blue Mustang rested against a telephone pole, the front hood dented and steaming.  Two hysterically weeping young girls were being squeezed in a one-armed hug by a middle aged women in a pink bathrobe and  Tweety Bird slippers who held a lit cigarette in her other hand.  A man writhed on his back, shrieking in panic, pants undone and halfway down his hips, his cuffed hands rubbing his dick while tears streamed down his face.  Vince stood next to him, his hand on his holstered revolver, looking like he wanted to shoot him, and as Roy and Morris pulled up, followed by the engine, the look of relief on Vince's face was almost comical.

"I'll handle the patient on this one, just like we talked about," said Morris, a touch belligerently, as he hopped out and flung open the side compartment to grab the drug box.

"No argument here," muttered Roy, following more slowly with the biophone.  When he caught up with Morris, he was already kneeling next to the patient, while Vince described what had happened.  Cap and the rest of the crew were ten yards down the street looking at the car, which didn't look too seriously damaged.  Roy started setting up the biophone as he listened to Vince.

"I was following him, running his plates.  Jesus, you should see that collection of bumper stickers.  Then he starts driving erratically, weaving all over the road.  Next thing I know he smashes into that pole, then leaps out of the car, flying at those poor kids over there, waving his dick and screaming at the top of his lungs.  I almost shot him.  Then he just collapsed and he's been like that since I called it in.  I took a look at him...."  Vince stopped to shudder, frowning.  "I've never seen anything like it.  That's just...wow."

Curious now, Roy looked over at the patient.  An angry rash and the beginnings of blisters covered his face, but he was still recognizable as Dr. Pendleton.  What Roy could see of his palms appeared to be in the same condition as his face.  Roy's gaze dropped lower and his eyes widened.  Pendleton's entire groin region, including his dick, was covered with the same rash.  His dick, in particular, was erupting in the nastiest, juiciest blisters Roy had ever seen.  Morris was busy trying to gather his vitals and keep Pendleton's hands from scratching himself.

Roy recognized the symptoms, although he had never seen such a severe reaction before.  "Hey Morris, you might want to put on some gloves."

"Hey yourself, DeSoto.  I've _got_ this.  Just get Rampart for me, would you?"

 _Have it your way, fuckwad._   He heard Dixie answer him from the base station and he began his report.  "Rampart, we have a male, approximately 28 years old.  He appears to be experiencing a severe allergic reaction to what may be poison oak, with redness and blistering on his face, hands, groin and, er, genitalia."  He gave her the vitals relayed from Morris.

After a few moments, Dr. Early's voice instructed them to start an IV.  "Rinse the affected areas with saline, apply hydrocortisone cream and transport as soon as you can.  Oh, and if the patient shows any signs of respiratory distress, administer epinephrine and insert an airway."

"10-4, Rampart."  He looked at Morris, who was starting the IV.  "You get all that?"

"Yeah, DeSoto, I know what I'm doing.  And I ain't deaf."

Roy heard the rest of the crew behind him.  "Man, what a freak," said Chet.  "Who would drive around with all that shit on their car?  He was practically begging to get pulled over. And - _Christ_ , Morris, what are you - "

Marco's hushed, horrified voice interrupted him.  "That is just wrong."

Morris had applied the cream to Pendleton's face and hands, and was now vigorously rubbing it into his penis.  "Grow up, assholes," he snarled at the gasping and now hysterically laughing firemen.  Pendleton started to wheeze and Morris stared at him, panicking.  "He stopped breathing!"

Roy calmly prepared the syringe of epinephrine, and turned to grab the airway from the drug box.  When he turned back, he was greeted by the sight of Morris in the act of giving the doctor mouth to mouth, his hand still on the other man's penis, rubbing for all he was worth.

"Whoa," came Cap's voice, simultaneous with Mike's gasped, "Oh, wow."

"Morris!"  Roy tried to get his attention, and then had to give him a rough shove.  "This guy's in trouble.  Outta the way."  He administered the epinephrine and started on the airway.  "Morris.  Move.  You can let go of his dick any time now." 

Roy managed to get Pendleton stabilized, shooting annoyed glances at his shift mates who finally got the message and stifled their laughter before wandering off to talk with Vince, who was down the street taking statements from the two traumatized girls.  The ambulance pulled up.  As they helped the attendants get Pendleton loaded, and Morris hopped in after him, Roy tried to warn him again about contact with the affected areas.  "Watch your hands, Morris--"

"Dammit, DeSoto.  Just try to be a professional.  Okay?"

 _Okay, then._   He closed the doors and watched the ambulance drive off.  _Sure hope you don't touch your face or your mouth or your own dick.  Idiot._   He turned to see the other men watching him.  "Pendleton's going to be fine," he said.  "Feel free to laugh your asses off."

Which is what they were doing as he pulled out, following the ambulance.  As he passed the crashed Mustang, he slowed down a little, incredulous, as he read the collection of bumper stickers which covered the back of the car:  _I Hate Cops.  My Other Ride is Your Daughter.  Legalize Drunk Driving.  Douche Bag.  Crazy Motherfucker._ And there were at least half a dozen which simply stated, _Asshole._

He shook his head in disgust.  You just never knew about some people.

 

@@@@@@@@@@

 

The first person Johnny saw when he arrived at the station for his next shift was Chet.  He was sitting in the day room drinking coffee and eating a doughnut.  Johnny grabbed a cup of coffee and joined him at the table, as Chet eyed him up and down.

"You look...different," said Chet.  "Enjoy your time off?"

"I was injured, Chet.  How fun could it have been?"

"Okay, okay.  Just making a comment."  He took a bite of his doughnut, and then treated Johnny to the sight of him scraping strawberry jelly out of his moustache.  "Hey, man, you missed a good one last shift."

"Yeah?"

"You know Dr. Pendleton from Rampart?"

 _In the Biblical sense, evidently._   Johnny nodded.  He already knew a little of what had happened, hearing about it when he talked to Kel on the phone two nights ago.  His little attempt at revenge had apparently spiraled out of control.  Who knew a person could be so allergic to a tiny bit of poison oak?  When he heard the details, and how Pendleton had actually stopped breathing for a minute, he felt both guilty and pissed off at himself for giving a shit about anything that happened to that worthless prick. 

Speaking of being pissed off, Kel had guessed correctly who was responsible for the poison oak, and had given him hell about it.  He had calmed down eventually, let Johnny off the hook, and the conversation had turned to more enjoyable topics.  Things were finally starting to calm down in the ER since Morton had recovered enough from his injuries to come back to work. 

Johnny smiled to himself, thinking ahead to the next evening when he was going over to Kel's condo for dinner.  He didn't intend to let things end with just a couple of kisses this time. 

"Johnny, did you hear what I said?"  Chet was giving him an odd look.

"Not really.  Anything important?"

"You tell, him, Roy."

Johnny looked up, surprised, to see that Roy had entered the day room.  "Tell me what?"

"About Morris," said Chet, speaking as if to a two year old.

They both waited expectantly for Roy to say something, but he just poured himself some coffee and stood at the counter drinking it, not making eye contact with either man.

"Okay," said Chet, "guess I'll have to tell you.  After giving Pendleton what was probably the best hand job of his life, Morris' hands were so messed up from the poison oak that he had to go home early.  The story is already all around the department, not from _me_ mind you - "

"Yeah right," said Johnny.

"Anyway, I heard Morris put in for two weeks' leave just to let all the talk die down.  Something about a hostile work environment."

Johnny was only half listening to Chet.  He watched Roy, who appeared distracted and a little edgy.  When Chet mentioned Morris' name a second time, something clicked in Johnny's memory.  "Wait a second, is that Ken Morris you were talking about, the guy who used to work at 99's before he got certified?"

When Chet just shrugged, Johnny turned back to Roy, looking at him questioningly.  Roy gave him a level gaze.  "Yeah," he finally said, "that's the one."

"Huh," said Johnny.  He continued to stare at Roy, but he was remembering a voice on the telephone from over eight years ago.  _"It was Morris and Jakes from my station.  And they saw me."_  Ken Morris had been one of the men who discovered that Jason was gay, and had reported him to his captain.  Johnny had heard that he'd become a paramedic recently. 

His face broke into a smile that he felt from one ear to the next, and he thought, _well whaddaya know...way to go, universe._  

Suddenly hungry, he grabbed a doughnut and took a bite, giving a low, drawn out, appreciative moan and closing his eyes.  When he opened them again, he found Roy staring at him intently, his brow furrowed in...anger? 

"Roy?"

"What?"

 _Yeah, definitely angry.  Must be fighting with Joanne._

"Nothing.  Just wondering if maybe you want to go grab some breakfast tomorrow after we get off?"

"Sorry.  Can't."

Johnny's good mood dimmed a little as it dawned on him that Roy was mad at _him._ Had he found out that Johnny was responsible for what had happened to Pendleton?  Nah, couldn't be that.  Nobody knew about that except Kel.

Oh well.  He'd figure it out eventually, and they would talk about it, clear the air.  They always did.  He wasn't sure about much in his life, but Roy's friendship was the one thing he could always count on.  He followed Roy and Chet to roll call, suddenly eager for the future, and ready to find out what came next.   

 

The End


End file.
